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It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. ” She pulled her dress back over her breasts, glad for the elastic that she had sewn in. Unless they remind him now and then not to. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. 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. They weren’t very chummy with one another but Sheila 113 didn’t expect much from a foster daughter as long as she worked hard, very hard, to earn her keep. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. "I've set a trap for him.
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