He moaned. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. 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. “But your sister,” he said. The devastations, however, were speedily made good, and, in two years more, it was finished. "So he may," rejoined Abraham, aloud, "so he may. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. “A sex of blacklegging clients. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life.
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