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Indeed I must. “I have a letter for him from his brother, which I was just leaving. Panic leapt into his eyes as he brought his wrist up just in time to parry the blade. ‘He could have little comfort there, indeed. “The things involved in it are,” he answered gravely. He flung aside all his talk of help and disinterested friendship as though it had never been even a disguise between them, as though from the first it was no more than a fancy dress they had put quite understandingly upon their relationship. Those were dreams. “He has a stubbly yellow moustache, weak eyes, and great horrid hands. Now, Sir. 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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