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. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. The blow was scarcely dealt, when, with a bound like that of a tiger, Blueskin sprang upon him. Where is Father Spencer? I must have absolution. “But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty.
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