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. And when there is no longer any need to use it, why then, enough you say—and throw it away. “Lighten up. She made an abrupt personal appeal. They seem to spend their time yawning and inspecting their neighbour’s dresses through those hateful glasses. Strangers look in and long, and neighbours are moved to envy.
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