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. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. "Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. Very slowly emerging out of a phase of stupefaction, these personal affairs and her personal problem resumed possession of her mind. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. ‘Don’t tell me. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. She learned that she could orgasm four or five times in a day as they toyed with each other and slept entire days afterward without feeling a single pang of guilt. “It is unimportant,” she said. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way.
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