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I tell you—never mind the bill. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. ” 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. ‘Lord in heaven, did I do that?’ exclaimed Gerald remorsefully. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity. She held out both her hands. ‘But it is entirely myself,’ she exclaimed aloud.
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