Perhaps she was. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety. ‘Dare I suppose that to be of her making?’ Gerald flushed. ‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly. " "Tell it. Gerald swore. ‘That is better, no?’ ‘Dieu. 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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