. I'll have a peep at him, if I die for it," she muttered, as she went out. . 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. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms.
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