“And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession. 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. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. I tried it myself, Sir. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said.
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