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. But you must see her alone; and that'll be no easy matter to manage, for she's a great invalid, and has generally somebody with her. That is good. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square.
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