Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. On this side of the canal she has no place to go. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. " "Hurt her? It would tear her to pieces; God knows she has had enough. Everyone has gone away again, so that I can do so all alone. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. ” She shrugged her shoulders. . 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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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 22-04-2024 00:11:52
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