A vast relief filled Spurlock's heart as he decided to tell this man everything which related to Ruth. "Ruth?" Silence for a moment. 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. You don't know what you have got; I do. " O'Higgins produced his wallet. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. But here I am to draw upon. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. She declined and finished with a few of her favorite excerpts from Scheherazade. Her voice recalled him.
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