You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. 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. It saved me the bother of being studied. For some time after he was locked up in this prison Jack continued in a very dejected state.
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