“Mid-thirties. The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow. 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 made it a point to bring beachcombers to the house to fill her with horror of mankind. Jack hastily retreated, and taking the first means of concealment that occurred to him, descended the cellar steps.
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