Mischief bubbled up in her. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. " "Very well. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it.
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