I'll lay my life he's gone. ” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. " "I hope you never may, my love," humbly acquiesced the carpenter. “No, I’m fine. “You may talk—if you can talk cheerfully, not unless. ” 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.
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