’ ‘But what have I done?’ protested Gerald innocently. You bring me this grandfather, whom you know well I do not in the least wish to see, for I have told you so. ” 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. “But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target.
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