She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. Lucy followed. ” 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. “Anna! Thank God I have found you at last.
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