“I think, perhaps if you will excuse me, that we will defer the luncheon. . 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. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father.
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