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"Here's one of the thieves, Sir Rowland!" cried the attendant. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. “I——” The door opened, and the doctor entered softly. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed. 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. 1.
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