Lucy thought of herself as belonging to Sebastian whether she liked it or not. 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. “Why?” He inquired. Such pretty manners, she thought. But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use.
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