With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. “When you married me——” Her little hand flashed out across the table. 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. Well, I shall be sorry to lose him, Mr. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. “It’s a way of avoiding explanations.
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