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. His fingers closed upon her hand. I tell you, that girl would jump into the sea, rather. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. .
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