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. She wrapped her legs about his hips as he raised himself upon straight arms, piercing her with his gaze as he thrust into her. ‘There is Bernadette, Marie-Thérèse, Marie-Joséphine, Marie-Claire, Henriette—’ Exasperated, Gerald seized her by the shoulders. ’ ‘Ah, the matter begins to come clear,’ Gerald said. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. Well, this was the side of the world where things like that happened. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. His eyes were set too close together.
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