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. However, not a moment is to be lost. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. She was too late. ‘So now you may safely cease your roundaboutation, and tell me what took you to Remenham House. 216 “Please, get dressed. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. ” For a moment she was grave. Too many.
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