Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. \"I told you he likes you!\" She whispered hotly into Lucy's ear. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. But his own situation was too perilous to admit of his rendering any assistance to the ill-fated waterman. 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.
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