Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I hope you never will. Mr. God must love me, for he has guided me here. "Give me the child, or—" As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs. 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. All the influences about her worked with her own predisposition and against all the traditions of her home and upbringing to deal with the facts of life in an unabashed manner. He continued tenderly, almost affectionately.
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