"What would you like most in this world?" he asked. 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 asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. I know my son's voice too well. The woman I wanted was another man's wife.
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