They were wed in Florence, in the grandest cathedral she had ever seen, the Santa Maria del Fiore. It was scarcely likely that she would have accepted his aid. ‘And it is me you dare accuse? It is yourself you should arrest. “My brother’s room when he comes home. Oh, Jack! repent, while it is yet time, of your evil conduct. 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.
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