"You have nothing but words to shew for it."
"No, of course; but they are God's words, David; so they are true."
"Take care!" said he, and his dark eye fired and glowed; "you mustn't talk so. You know I don't believe that."
"Believe what?
"That his words are God's words."
"But don't you remember," said Matilda, to whom the words seemed to come in her puzzle, to help her out,—"don't you remember in the Psalms—"
"The Psalms of David?"
"Yes, to be sure, the Psalms of David; don't you remember how it says—Oh, I wish I could find it!—something about 'sitting at my right hand' till his enemies shall be,—I forget what."
"I know!" said David with a curious change of countenance; and in his own book he immediately turned to the place.
"'The affirmation of Jehovah to my Lord: Sit at my right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool.'"