"You can no longer refuse to tell me the name of this youth's father, Aliva," he said. . 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. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. On that first occasion, the delay in locating the entrance to the secret passage meant that she had to wait until morning to make her search. Armed, however, with the implement he had so fortunately obtained, he did not despair of success.
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