She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. “I speak from my heart, and you answer from your brain. ’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology. ” “I cannot let you go on,” Ennison interrupted. 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.
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