“Dear me!” he said. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her. "Come—the kiss!" cried Austin, endeavouring to pass his arm familiarly round the Amazon's waist. I wanted the time with you. 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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