At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. “As if it could possibly matter what such a person thinks of you. ” 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. ” Lady Ferringhall was conscious of some relief. " "Nothing," echoed Wood furiously.
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