I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. “Will you come round to the hospital?” he asked. 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?’ uttered Gerald, startled. “Are you aware, Ann Veronica, you nearly throttled that gentleman?” Then she reviled her own foolish way of putting it. Your husband could have told you that. Ennison,” she said, letting her fingers rest in his.
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