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. “Silly!” he remarked after a pause. ’ ‘In one little minute,’ she said, snapping her fingers, ‘it is over and voilà tout. It is not so. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. " "Order those who choose to obey you," rejoined the lady scornfully.
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