” 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've foiled him hitherto, and will foil him yet. “I was sick of the make-believe. 23 She had always considered herself a simple wool maker’s daughter, but she began to realize that by marrying Gianfrancesco she had unwittingly gained entrance to a separate world.
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