” “Then I,” she said, “have too much character. 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. " "Uh-huh. I did not even know where to write and thank you. He must know she’ll be at a convent. It had been her home for hundreds of years.
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