. Jack turned away with an aching heart. ” “I am your friend,” he said slowly, “whatever you may have to tell me. ” 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. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness.
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