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“Then turn round and go back there,” she directed. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. ” She eyed him scornfully. He had no wish to drag the footman out of his way, once he had got his questions answered. 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. ‘So now you may safely cease your roundaboutation, and tell me what took you to Remenham House.

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