” 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. ” “Go!” She did not understand him at first, and then her heart began to beat very rapidly. “She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. F. Ah Coom.
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