” 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. Diable. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. Humph. " The desperate eagerness to go with him—and she dared not voice it! She watched him until McClintock joined him and the two made off toward the south. “Please, stay a while longer.
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