“TROUSERS!” she whispered. 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. \" 66 She commented as more doors slammed. "Adorable girl!" he cried, in the most impassioned tone, and with the most impassioned look he could command. Sated, he rolled off her body and retired to his quarters. ‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped.
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