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 his great joy he found a small garret-door in the roof of the opposite house open. Jonathan cast a hasty glance around, to see that all was properly arranged for his purpose; placed a chair with its back to the door; disposed the lights on the table so as to throw the entrance of the room more into shadow; and then flung himself into a seat to await Sir Rowland's arrival. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched if from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. Will you not, brother?" "Promise," said a deep voice in Trenchard's ear.
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