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. He seemed to have expected them. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. ” He contradicted himself by plunging into an exposition of motifs. Anyhow, he did not sentimentalize her. She recovered herself, however, with amazing facility. She could feel Michelle’s nervousness leaching into her spine. Michelle looked at their reflections in the wall mirror.
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