Her parents left two weeks later, the weather still fine. Or at least he did the day before yesterday. Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. “You are coming my way,” Courtlaw answered. All through the love music of the second act, until the hunting horns of Mark break in upon the dream, Ann Veronica’s consciousness was flooded with the perception of a man close beside her, preparing some new thing to say to her, preparing, perhaps, to touch her, stretching hungry invisible tentacles about her. But was it Faith? That is what she was this day going to find out. 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. To divide the agony into two spheres so that one would mitigate the other.
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