” 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. Who invented them? Nobody knows. I had two slices. \"Carry your books for you?\" He asked. Considering how little he lets her have.
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