” “There was no marriage,” she answered. 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. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his. She looked away. The reply he received this time put him into a state of continuous bewilderment. That—that isn’t living! You are beside yourself. I mean to have you! Don’t frown me off now. . “You have them both,” Anna answered.
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