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. “Thanks, so do you. You certainly have not shown much desire for my society, have you?” “You have been wrapped up in your politics,” she murmured. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. "But your threats won't prevent my leaving the room when I please, and as I please.
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