John knew better. “I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning. 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. Drummond, who had been about to speak, refrained. “Those things are arranged more easily in any other country than England. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. . Our mutual safety requires it. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. I have been dreaming of your body and you night after night.
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