Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. “We played at love-making in Paris. 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 did not come,” she faltered. ’ ‘Oh, don’t you?’ Gerald said grimly. Jack who had not been in a place of worship for many years was powerfully affected. His room was last at the end of one winding corner.
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