While 'Larby was speaking, he was beating his forehead and mumbling: "Where?
When?
Naomi!" as if grappling for lost treasures in an ebbing sea.
And when 'Larby finished, he fell on him with reproaches.

"And you are weeping for that ?" he cried.

"You think it much that the sweet child is dead--God rest him! So it is to the like of you, but look at me!" His voice betrayed a grim pride in his miseries.

"Look at me! Am I weeping?
No; I would scorn to weep.

But I have more cause a thousandfold.