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. "Mark me," said Jack, sternly; "I have twice broken out of this prison in spite of all your precautions. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. \" He piped up. “My dear Anna,” he answered. Something has changed her tremendously. She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. ’ ‘But—’ ‘You’ll get her all over blood again. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. I am glad or sorry according as it has brought you happiness. Then began expostulations, preluded by a telegram and headed by her aunt. “I’ll get a towel. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes.
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