"You shall never behold me alive. 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. She could think of nothing more to say. She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who cared to listen, to be so very particular. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed.
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