" He did not pause to consider how she had learned that he had imagination; he comprehended only the direct challenge. But he was not a father one could make much of. Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. 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. "Surely," she said, after a pause, "you don't attach any importance to what my mother has just said.
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