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 want to be your friend,” he said. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface. You forget that every one is going to the ‘Unusual’ to see her. It isn’t law, nor custom, nor masculine violence settled that.
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