” 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. My arm's nearly well again. "I give you joy of the capture, Mr. “Girl friends. She hesitated, and for a moment thought of omitting her second verse altogether. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off.
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