“Julian! I was worried that. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. Thank you for walking me home the other day. Then Capes’ footsteps approached. You came out like an ant for your nuptial flight. ’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. Tell me that again. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head. Then pain entered their depths. 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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