” 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. Lucy stared out to the busy streets beyond. The danger you put yourself in by remaining here astounds me. He could have her in the car but she preferred a more private setting. You didn’t even do that Vee; not even that.
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