She followed the official back into his room. 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. Do not remain with me. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. “Do you know him?” Lucy replied, “No, I haven’t met him.
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