” 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 they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch. " CHAPTER VI. ’ Melusine fought down the raw emotion that threatened to overwhelm her and drew a steadying breath. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. “Oh, you know,” she said.
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