Chapter Four Two days later, it was quite another Melusine who confronted a young lad on a sunny morning, at variance with her bleak mood. ” “I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall have many more such to think about. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. Here and there, a building might be seen with the doors and windows driven in, and all access to it prevented by the heaps of bricks and tilesherds. 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. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance.
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