“You are so sweet, Lucy. No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license. 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. ’ Melusine looked resentfully at the pistol. I cannot let you go.
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