” “I don’t mind knowing,” said Ann Veronica. 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. But she could see that Diane watched her more closely now, and in a cat-like way. “Good God!” he exclaimed. "Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. Don’t try to shield anybody or hide anything. ” She stopped. His quiet, kindly smile implied his serene disbelief in any confessible thing.
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