The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. ’ ‘All the way to England?’ She opened wide eyes. You must have repented a little, or you would not have done that. Tears sprang to her eyes. On his way he made a slight divergence from the direct route and paused for a moment outside the flat where Anna was now living. 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. And when there is no longer any need to use it, why then, enough you say—and throw it away. But in a little while you will awake; and if there is a spark of manhood in you, you will be horrified at this day's work. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. Until the last few months.
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