“Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent 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. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. He turned back at once. "But if you do not find this aunt, what will you do? What can you do to protect yourself against hunger?" "I'll find something. Unless he can arise from the bottom of the Thames, where he and his abhorred father lie buried, you will never behold him again in this world. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door.
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