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 the girl was heading past the inn and Roding marched down to confront her. Against the sinister, the threatening, monstrous inhumanity of the limitless city, there was nothing now but this supreme, ugly fact of a pursuit— the pursuit of the undesired, persistent male. Never had her father explained. She looked at him gravely and squinted. CONTENTS. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. If my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely. And yet, when you offered to help, it was what is to come that I had in mind.
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