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I don’t want you to be sad. E. 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. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. ’ ‘His daughter, ma’am?’ Gerald asked. She must learn wisdom—as God pleases. He was in a position to help her. She wants that and needs it more than anything else in the world. ‘Ah, non,’ exclaimed the husband. She has had offers innumerable; for where wealth and beauty are combined, as in her instance, suitors are seldom wanting. E. Happy Birthday, then.

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