" "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. "I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here. . “We have come too close together for me to believe it. ” 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. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful.
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