Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. 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. Of the women felons' rooms nothing has yet been said. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up.
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