He had to know the truth, Melusine. "An hour hence, I shall be beyond your malice," said Mrs. 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. "I'm only a benighted fool; and having said that, I have said everything. Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. What is the use of it? I do not wish to marry you. It was you! It was exactly you, but it was probably the photo they thought it was your mother! I dug it up after combing the Reader’s Guide To Periodical Literature for like, six hours straight.
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