It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. Let her have her own way in all things, for she will always be just. And yet, Spurlock was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth. ” 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. ” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on.
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