” Michelle’s tone changed from miserable to conspiratorial. 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. She bathed frequently with ash and lye soap stolen from traders. She looked at him gravely and squinted. Annabel shook her head. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful. “I went to Anna’s rooms because I felt that I must see her. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her.
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