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. He was tall and straight, and his expression was good. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. Then Capes flittered to the hearthrug and poked the fire, stood up, and turned about. “These are for you. She had been working upon a ribbon of microtome sections of the developing salamander, and he came to see what she had made of them. . The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. Forgive me, but you have been looking, have you not, for some employment?” “Quite true!” she answered. Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. She fell asleep instantaneously, fatigued from weeks of exhaustion.
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