There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light. 'It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known. I want to but I cannot! Please accept that!” She yelled. Take my advice. Sadly, the Christmas break came to an end. 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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