Certain of my prey, I can afford to wait for it. " On a shelf was placed a row of paint-jars; the contents of which had been daubed in rainbow streaks upon the adjacent closet and window sill. Only in her eyes there seemed to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and manners were alike undesirable things. 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. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. "Enough!" rejoined Wild; "he shall not return.
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