Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. The man lingered. "The danger's past," whispered Bess. She pulled him down by his lapels and arched her head readily towards his neck. 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. "Before to- morrow night that boy shall join his father.
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