Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe. . But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. 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. The militia offered little in the way of relief.
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