" And she flung herself between them. In this state Mrs. Small wonder she had learned to be self-reliant. 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. ‘I don’t think he deserved that, Melusine. Thwart me, and I become your mortal enemy. I have always loved you.
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