” 29 Gianfrancesco’s father and all of his three brothers had perished. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. 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. The man was mad to marry me. I'll knock off at tea. En tout cas, why had he not returned? She pondered the question as, later, she paced about her favourite retreat.
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