Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. It seemed to her in her restored geniality that she liked Manning extremely. 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. "Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. Norris, and do not return till Father Spencer arrives. Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs. Yes, yes, you do not like the French, and so this English lady here, she is altogether your flesh.
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