I want to marry Anthony, because husbands are so often ‘husbands’ and I must marry a lover.

The sheath that held her soul had assumed significance - that was all. She was a sun, radiant, growing, gathering light and storing it - then after an eternity pouring it forth in a glance, the fragment of a sentence, to that part of him that cherished all beauty and all illusion.

But magic must hurry on, and the lovers remain...

They were stars on this stage, each playing to an audience of two.

It seemed that the only lover she had ever wanted was a lover in a dream.