” 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. Jack, however, had an expedient for mastering this difficulty. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion. “My child, I do not wish. " "I do not doubt it," retorted Winifred, scornfully; "because I attach credit neither to one nor the other.
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