” She replied weakly. No matter. . He moved her dress from her shoulders and off her torso. 1. . 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. “You have dyed your hair and darkened your eyebrows. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. At the same time, I must say that I am most anxious to improve my acquaintance with her. But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding.
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