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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. Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him. I'll try a strong dose. There were moments when Ann Veronica rather more than suspected the chief speakers to be, as school-boys say, showing off at her. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. Prudence was the substance and Angelina the shadow; for Angelina never offered opinions, she only agreed with those advanced by Prudence. Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest.
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