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. "Fear nothing, Sir," said the man, in a voice which Thames instantly recognised as that of Blueskin. The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. The first set of occupations seemed to her to be altogether too domestic and restricted; for the latter she was dreadfully handicapped by her want of experience. So here I am, king of all I survey, with a predilection for poker, a scorched liver, and a piano-player.
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