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. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. "I'm dumb. He was always drawing contrasts between a woman’s lot and a man’s, and treating her as a wonderful new departure in this comparison. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful. Everything was very neat; it had evidently been straightened up and kept for her. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown.
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