But this chap is good wine yet. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. But the general was turning on him, the hint of emotion wiped from his lined features. ” 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. Furious shouting, and the thunder of running feet. Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. .
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