. . Gerald, intent on his trail, ignored it. ‘Certainly I have them with me. His figure was uncommonly slim even for his age, which could not be more than thirteen; and the looseness of his garb made him appear thinner than he was in reality. 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. You know not in what dark places my life has been cast; with what crimes it has been stained. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. The mob pursued the thief-taker and his party all the way, and such missiles as could be collected were hurled at them. You don’t know what you ask nor what you say. ‘You did not find Gosse, that is seen, but—’ ‘Gosse? Gosse? Who’s this here Gosse then?’ ‘He is the Frenchman of whom I told you.
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