’ ‘Because you are a pig!’ retorted Melusine hotly. ‘Well, if that’s what the good Lord wants, then you’ll just have to accept it. 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. ‘Well, she’d better learn fast if she wants any truck with me. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. “They ought to have been lopped in the spring. No one ate with as much passionate gusto as a teenager could. Wood, popping her head through the window.
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