” “Well, I take it we’re straight again,” said Capes with a note of relief, and assumed an easier position on the edge of her table. The first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed ominous. ” The lights sank, the prelude to the third act was beginning, the music rose and fell in crowded intimations of lovers separated—lovers separated with scars and memories between them, and the curtain went reefing up to display Tristan lying wounded on his couch and the shepherd crouching with his pipe.
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