"We were close upon him when he suddenly disappeared. He called here on his way back, after he had been to Bedlam to visit poor Mrs. They could not have called it a fatal motor accident if he had not been dead. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. 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. It is you who took my name, not I yours.
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