She ought to be softened and tender and confidential at this phase of her life. White——” “No more,” Sydney Courtlaw begged, laughingly. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. ” He said. ” 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. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison.
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