E. John looked at his feet bashfully. I couldn’t sit down for a week!” “Oh, how terrible for you. Annabel, I cannot believe it. 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. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears.
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