E. We shall be torn in pieces if we are discovered. When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her. It felt too good. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. “I wonder why people in love are so defiant, so careless of other considerations?” “The very hares grow brave. 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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