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. ’ ‘You speak it very well,’ Gerald said encouragingly. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Shari managed it after graduating beauty school. She took a few of his things before she scanned the area. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. “Steady on!” he cried. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. Ramage.
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