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. To have the present lengthen into years! But in a few hours she would be upon her way, far lonelier than she had ever been. Out of the beaten track, far from the trails of men! He relaxed. ‘Yes, very rude,’ agreed the major.
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