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. Pull over there. ‘I know what it means, numbskull! Didn’t spend years in the confounded country without picking up some of their infernal tongue. ‘It is not your affair. The work of plunder over, that of destruction commenced. And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time. He stood away from her. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil.
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