But while there's life there's hope. ” 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. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. You have never known what it is to want food, raiment, shelter. I’ve seen him, and he doesn’t a bit understand. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. It was a mass of knick-knacks. I was afraid that I might be called upon as a witness. Dear me, what a difference it has made! No one would ever think that we were sisters.
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