All through the love music of the second act, until the hunting horns of Mark break in upon the dream, Ann Veronica’s consciousness was flooded with the perception of a man close beside her, preparing some new thing to say to her, preparing, perhaps, to touch her, stretching hungry invisible tentacles about her. In reply to this summons a horn was instantly blown at the corner of the street. ‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done. Armed, however, with the implement he had so fortunately obtained, he did not despair of success. “You do not quite understand,” she said gently. No idea that you were here, though. ” “I am going to pack my bag,” Anna answered. This year—I’ve got it badly.
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