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She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. 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. . Earles with composure into the inner room. " "I won't reproach you, Jack," said the other, sternly. " "Nonsense!" cried Wood; "while there's life there's hope. " Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured. I do not even know his name.
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