” She had had so much time to learn the violin that she often thought to herself that she ought to be much more skilled at it. "What's the matter, father!" continued the new-comer, addressing Wood. 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. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too.
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