The perfume was the only one she ever used. ‘God loves you, even if your father didn’t. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. He lit a cigarette and loitered about. No window. " "I can't! I can't—not now!" "Bat!—can't you see that she's the kind who would understand and forgive? She loves you. 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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