‘Well?’ he uttered between heavy breaths. 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. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. "Shoot him! shoot him! Put him out of hish mishery," cried the Jew. "If so, it won't pay. The Malays have one, too, but it's a rank imitation, tom-toms and all. " "On the contrary, if that is a specimen, they must be poets. It distressed and confused her that the girl should not come to her. The girl’s eyes never left his face. D'ye hear. " "It is," replied Jack.
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