I am engaged to sing every evening at the ‘Unusual’ music hall. “Mr. She did not wince. “These are her rooms,” she said. 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. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers.
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