Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. The night was clear and moonlit, dazzling with even light blue shadows that shone into manicured lawns and pristine gardens. 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. ‘I’ve never before made love at pistol point. Although she had said a great deal when she heard about the shooting that had left poor Jack so badly injured.
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