“And to-night we are friends?” “We are friends,” said Ann Veronica, and drew her hand quickly away from him. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. But always this new phase in life which civilization called convention threw up barrier after barrier. 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. Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. She struggled fiercely not to give way.
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