” He said nothing for a space. ’ ‘Then you’re mad,’ Roding said flatly, and suddenly grinned. 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. It doesn't annoy me; it only disturbs me. But I may yet live to thwart them. " "Quite right, Sir James," said Austin.
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