Perhaps an hour later he would begin again. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. ‘I will make certain that we are unobserved. 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. ” “Be very sure that you do,” Anna said slowly. But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him.
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