“Promise. ” Anna shook her head. " And he proceeded to unfold his scheme to the woollen-draper. Why should WE hoard? We aren’t going out presently, like Japanese lanterns in a gale. She recalled him. 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.
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