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ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-1-2
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-3-4
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-5-6
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-7
ANN VERONICA GATHERS POINTS OF VIEW-1-2
ANN VERONICA GATHERS POINTS OF VIEW-3
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS-1-2
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS-3-4-5
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS-6-7
THE CRISIS-1-2-3-4
THE FLIGHT TO LONDON-1-2-3
THE FLIGHT TO LONDON-4-5-6
EXPOSTULATIONS-1-2-3-4
EXPOSTULATIONS-5-6
IDEALS AND A REALITY-1-2
IDEALS AND A REALITY-3-4
IDEALS AND A REALITY-5-6-7
BIOLOGY-1-2
BIOLOGY-3-4-5-6
BIOLOGY-7-8-9
DISCORDS-1
DISCORDS-2-3-4
DISCORDS-5-6-8-9
THE SUFFRAGETTES-1-2-3
THE SUFFRAGETTES-4-5
THOUGHTS IN PRISON-1-2-3-4-5-6
ANN VERONICA PUTS THINGS IN ORDER-1-2-3-4-5-6-7
THE SAPPHIRE RING-1-2-3-4
THE SAPPHIRE RING-5-6
THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT-1-2-3
THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT-4-5-6
THE LAST DAYS AT HOME-1-2-3
IN THE MOUNTAINS-1-2-3-4
IN THE MOUNTAINS-5-6-7-8-9-10-11
IN PERSPECTIVE-1-2-3

 

"It's rather jolly of you," said Ann Veronica. 

 

"It's jolly of you to come," said Ramage. 

 

So presently they got into a hansom together, and Ann Veronica sat back 

feeling very luxurious and pleasant, and looked at the light and stir 

and misty glitter of the street traffic from under slightly drooping 

eyelids, while Ramage sat closer to her than he need have done, and 

glanced ever and again at her face, and made to speak and said nothing. 

And when they got to Covent Garden Ramage secured one of the little 

upper boxes, and they came into it as the overture began. 

 

Ann Veronica took off her jacket and sat down in the corner chair, and 

leaned forward to look into the great hazy warm brown cavity of the 

house, and Ramage placed his chair to sit beside her and near her, 

facing the stage. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered 

from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy 

orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown 

and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. She 

had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of 

people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women's hats 

for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense 

of space and ease in her present position. The curtain rose out of the 

concluding bars of the overture and revealed Isolde on the prow of the 

barbaric ship. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the 

masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. She knew 

the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and 

deepening interest. The splendid voices sang on from phase to phase of 

love's unfolding, the ship drove across the sea to the beating rhythm of 

the rowers. The lovers broke into passionate knowledge of themselves and 

each other, and then, a jarring intervention, came King Mark amidst the 

shouts of the sailormen, and stood beside them. 

 

The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights 

in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused 

dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors 

to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand 

resting lightly on her waist. She made a quick movement, and the hand 

fell away. 

 

"By God! Ann Veronica," he said, sighing deeply. "This stirs one." 

 

She sat quite still looking at him. 

 


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