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. “We pretend bodies are ugly. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation. And life is much the same, whether taken in battle, on the couch, or by the road-side. I'm no great judge of these articles, Ma'am; but I trust to your honour not to palm off paste upon me. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. The Law was around the corner and down the narrow hall, puffing a Virginia Slims Menthol in frantic sips, teetering uncomfortably out of an emergency exit door. Men have seen to that. "I cannot remain here long. “Oh, you can act!” she cried. “Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. He took up his hat and went.
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