Capes?” she heard her aunt saying. 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. “May I sit beside you?” “It’s a very difficult one,” said her aunt. Treading with noiseless step over the soft mould, they soon reached the building.
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