Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. ’ The couple on the sofa stared at her blankly. ” The lady stood away from the door. “My friend,” she said, “no! Let me tell you this. ’ Tears glistened in her eyes. 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. Wood brought up. He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. My friend, I am only grieved that you of all others should have been so deceived. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. Yes; she had heard the music the night before.
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