” 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. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. ’ She sagged a little suddenly, as if the painful memories in her mind had exhausted her body. I'll take them back with me. "No," replied Jack. “More than that, he arrived to-day at the boarding-house where I am staying, greeted me with a theatrical start, and claimed me—as his wife. ” “Isn’t it.
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