’ ‘But why?’ asked Melusine, astonished, and somewhat overwhelmed by the other girl’s volubility. 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. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired. You intrigue me. Things happen to women—proper women—and all they have to do is to take them well. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream.
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