‘Lucy, do not say that you have told everyone all that I have done?’ ‘Well, yes, but—’ Consternation filled Melusine’s breast. I have had enough of your hysterical behavior. 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. “I haven’t seen the new Patience, dear,” she said.
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