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” “We will have some tea in the drawing-room as soon as ever we can—and I will take my things off. 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. ” Lucy said. Shot him, do you hear?” “Good God!” he exclaimed, looking at her curiously. But it was of no avail. She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless cruelty to give her a push toward it.
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