"Yes. ” Lucy said. ‘Gerald had to change both shirt and breeches. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. Immediately after it, he was off again, and that, let me tell you, was the last anyone saw of him. ’ She bit her lip and thought deeply. 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’ve got imagination. She has married some one he could not approve of, and gone right away.
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