The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. ” 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. " "So far you are correct," observed Trenchard; "still, this is no secret. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. Murder, I say, has been done! Another murder will be committed if you don't prevent it.
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