“If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. I'll see her myself; and that's more than she bargained for, I'll be sworn. Clergymen were human. ” 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. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. "Often. ‘Ah, non,’ exclaimed the husband. E. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself.
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