Nor, indeed, did she want to refuse. ‘Tell me the truth, Melusine. 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. ‘What is this fate?’ ‘Un mariage of no distinction. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. She doesn't understand; she believes he has taken a sudden dislike to her.
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