And Gerald— Melusine swallowed on an unaccountable lump in her throat. The sun shined weakly through brief pinpricks 90 in the thick cloud cover, the weather was brewing a storm. In the discussion there was the oddest mixture of things that were personal and petty with an idealist devotion that was fine beyond dispute. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. 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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