” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. ‘Coward,’ she threw at him, brandishing the sword. 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. The period of repression was over. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you.
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