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"I hope not. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. ‘And nnever would you have f-found it. I did not know that you had even 244 started writing a symphony. The likeness was ridiculous. Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. 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. ’ Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. She was curious, and at the same time clearly resolved she must not hear it.
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