I never could. Some of my schemes are already in hand. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. When at first she had realized that he 206 had conducted a sexual affair with a local well-known Florentine courtesan she called him out, accusing him of exposing her to an array of diseases. ’ ‘That is what you thought of me. . “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. And, in addition, she was now seeing and talking to Ramage almost weekly, on a theory which she took very gravely, that they were exceptionally friends. Annabel thought, and thought again. She turned with an effort. “I’ll come to the station,” said Ann Veronica. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised.
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