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 MUST. ’ The reference to Major Alderley’s wounds reminded Melusine all at once of the fight they’d had, and its consequence. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. I'm used to insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to both; but I'm not used to compassion, and know not how to take it.
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