You are nothing of the sort. ” Her breath left her for a moment. ” He handed her the phone reluctantly, barely masking his mild disgust. And I have seen work by his pupils myself that struck me as being—well, next door to shameful. She must kill this man, or kill herself. But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding. 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. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. “You need a reason. Mr.
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