A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. ’ ‘But me orders, sir? Are we to—’ ‘Gad, but that’s her,’ interrupted Roding suddenly. 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. ’ ‘Now you come to mention it, it is stupid,’ Gerald said, struck. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” He said.
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