"What I do is for the best, and I can only hope she may have strength to bear the separation. I must obey. 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. The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow did not appear to relish the rating. Foolish compliments were tossed about like confetti.
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