She laid her hand upon his arm. ’ ‘Then who is this Englishman?’ demanded Gerald on a sceptical note. 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. Let me bind you up, and then you can attend to her. Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name.
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