"Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. 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. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. It is very sweet of you to have waited for me. Take me to the Stone Room. ” Anna stopped in front of her. "Do nothing without consulting my father—your father, Thames," she implored. Every word you utter puzzles me. .
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