‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’ ‘Certainly not. He threw her on the bed. Hold your hand for a moment. 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. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. "Oh gracious! he's lost.
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