But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. "But you do agitate me so much. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. You need not be afraid. Try and consider me your elder brother, or an old family friend, whichever you like best. You're rich. "You have all the world before you. 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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