123 It didn’t take long. As Spurlock called her name, she paused and turned. Several of the assailants carried links, so that the room was a blaze of light. ” 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. They sold him the whisky. She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively.
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