Wood, contemptuously, "he'll never mend till he comes to Tyburn. He was afraid if he stayed that he would make a fool of himself. 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. It’s no good. Mr. I’ve wanted you—always. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. "Where is he?" he cried.
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