All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. . “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. 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. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year.
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