She felt a cheat and a sneak to his unsuspecting retreating back. This at once thrilled her and worried her. "I'm not going to get rid of you just yet. ” 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 turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. “Nothing can cheer me,” he said, “except champagne. CHAPTER XXX.
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