She was like an angel with one wing. After all, she was a consummate actress. ” He repeated several times that he would trust her, though it remained obscure just exactly where the trust came in. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. 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. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. Previously to his descent he had left the nail and spike on the wall, and with these he fastened the blanket to the stone coping.
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