The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Melusine was unable to repulse him—even had she tried. 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. "Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him. She shuddered as his naked body pressed against her. ‘Never mind that now. John knew better. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree. And catching hold of Thames, he quitted the deck.
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