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. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked. Who is it?” The man came a little further into the room.
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