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. And then if some day Capes wanted her—saw fit to alter his views upon friendship. Sit down, I command you. It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband.
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