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 just want him, and no one else will do. “Well, you have thought it over?” he said, sitting down beside her. But the world didn’t do that. . " "Nor any one else in his senses," rejoined Wood, with a laugh.
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