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. ‘I don’t propose doing anything with you. "Heaven be praised she knows me at last. But all these hours, trying to teach the child wariness toward life, and the moment his back was turned, this! He was, perhaps, still dazed by the inner revelation—his own interest in Ruth. ” The girl shook her head. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. You may go back, Marthe.
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