He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table. 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. ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully.
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