I have an appetite which I dare not increase. 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 stopped abruptly. She observed the tides, amazed by how high the water could rise, almost touching the tops of the cliffs. But it must have been something that could show her to be Mary’s daughter. Only the strong survived.
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