“She has always worked very long hours as a real estate agent. 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. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. He turned the water off and handed her a towel. Men usually do.
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