This double buffetting had sharpened her shrewdness and insight. 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. If it were but the question of his reason for marrying her, the solution would have been simple. He handed Ruth a letter.
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