All at once she became aware of sounds outside. The Well Hole. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. She hesitated. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. "I've got a proposition to make," said O'Higgins. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. 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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