The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. " "A miniature! Of whom?" "That I can't say," replied Jack, mysteriously. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. 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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