If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. It does not work, I still suffer madness. Too much, perhaps. Above she found the two Chinamen squatted at the side of the door. “Don’t we all rather humbug about the coarseness? All we women, I mean,” said she. 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.
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