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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. Gerald’s judgement was borne out a moment later. I was just like a sort of dummy that does things as it is told—that is to say, as the strings are pulled. She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features. It was well for him that he had taken his place by Sheppard, as regard for the latter alone prevented the deadliest missiles being hurled at him. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head.
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