John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. ’ ‘I don’t know,’ confessed Gerald. You've a good deal to go through to-night. ’ ‘But, Hilary—’ ‘Don’t you begin, Lucilla, for I won’t stand for it. She entered the room in the shadows. 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 admired your chivalry. .
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