‘But there is something still I do not understand. I have been dreaming of your body and you night after night. “I do not know what you mean,” he said, “but if you are referring to any little coolness since our marriage let us never speak of it again. . 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. It depresses one, you know. The beachcomber, the lowest in the human scale; and some day he would enter into this estate.
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