” 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. . Nothing like the direct approach, she thought. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. “Are you aware, Ann Veronica, you nearly throttled that gentleman?” Then she reviled her own foolish way of putting it. He was daring enough to have seized and carried him off before the whole congregation, but he preferred waiting. Yet before she turned once more to resume her flight she schooled herself with an effort to look where it had happened. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side.
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