The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. But Enschede took them as they came, without question. ’ I said. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. “I should like to speak to you for a few minutes,” he said to Anna, dropping his voice a little. 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 felt pride sashay into her thoughts.
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