Brewis had told him the Valade family had been victim to wholesale murder, and a twinge of compassion had wrung even his deliberately hardened heart. The door of cabin 2 was open. Here she walked more slowly, looking constantly at the notices in the shop windows. He and her father shook hands manfully. He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. I will permit you to rescue me. 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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