At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. I didn’t go out of my way or anything. 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. “But I’m afraid you are going to be in a hopeless minority here as regards me. Spurling, drily. “Don’t be a hypocrite.
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