“It’s a nice holiday. "All right," replied Sheppard, with affected indifference. Soon the trunk, portmanteau and hat box were ready. Poor young lady! She trembled too, and was unable to give her evidence. ” Ann Veronica sat with her chin on her hand, red-lit and saying little, and Miss Miniver discoursed. ’ The questions that had long haunted her came out at last. 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. “I remember you now,” he said. Thanks. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. “I’ll go. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money.
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