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He was all alone, too. By that time it seemed to them they had lived together twenty years. Go to her, I say, and take her in your arms, you poor benighted Ironsides! I can't make you see. 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. And taking the keys, he departed on the errand.
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