See the new litter of Mrs. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder. ‘Keep your distance! You dare to tell me I cannot refuse?’ He glared at the girl. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. 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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