“You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. “But I’m afraid you are going to be in a hopeless minority here as regards me. She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption. Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. She let Jack go as he passed through the opening. We won’t drag you away until you’ve been through the place from top to bottom. 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. These convulsions occurred when Ann Veronica was about twelve.
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