‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. 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. Then she burst into a peal of laughter. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone … as I am!… yes, and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an eye. ’ ‘Not if you want one of good family, no,’ he agreed mildly. ’ ‘You see, I am of them,’ she said seriously, ‘but not with them—yet. “I thought much of it amazingly beautiful.
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