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. 'Avow nothing, believe nothing, give nothing for nothing,' is my own motto. In those revolutionary times one had to be prepared. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. Go and prepare for our departure.
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