And, whatever you may think, I assure you, Jack's a downright goodnatured fellow. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. You do not believe me. Go to your sister, and do not quit her till all is over. To return. In truth, she had been quite glad to lose the argument about remaining while the bullet was dug out of Jack’s side. Then he opened them again suddenly, to find Courtlaw still by his side. But, after all, it will be different. 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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