Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. 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. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. Let us proceed with our tale. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. “Of course!” he said.
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