” There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. She chuckled. 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. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. Ruth?" "Why the devil not? Why do you suppose she married you if she didn't love you? While you read I watched her face. You'll need all your strength to grab him. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. The doctor had sown a seed, carelessly.
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