’ Melusine’s heart leapt, and as swiftly clattered into dead stillness as the implication of the second name hit home. There was one verse that haunted and mocked her. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. He waved to her. 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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