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 am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet. Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, even I knew anything, which I don’t. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. ‘What can I do, miss?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ cried Melusine. Balked, Melusine halted. “Oh, Lord!” she said, discovering what she was up to, and dropped lightly from the fence upon the turf and went on her way toward the crest. I owe his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest, to her son.
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