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. . He pressed the bloody wrist into her mouth, and she though she could not feel it or 72 control it, she knew she was being made to swallow. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. That is very bad indeed. "You have lived over here?"—astonished. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. By this time, the churchyard was crowded with spectators, some of whom dispersed in different directions in quest of the other robber. “You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said. His attention was focused on Melusine’s transfixed stare and he forgot to say any of the things he had planned to say. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen. “If you speak—farewell. “And yet in a very few weeks I shall have done with it all. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind.
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