“I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. 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. “Where have you been! If Sheila finds out, she’ll kill you!” She summoned a few tears to elicit sympathy from him. “Will you help me?” he asked. ” “Do you mean,” Courtlaw asked, “that from now to the end of the six months you do not wish to see us—any of us?” Her eyes were a little dim again. Her hair was washed for her also. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. From one window the beach was always visible; from another, the stores. Sir Rowland witnessed these proceedings like one stupified. Melusine stepped back a pace, her gaze fixed on the vision before her. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. ‘You’re speaking the truth.
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