And it’s like the petals falling from a flower. ” 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. She had been to San Francisco, and what I learned about the world was from her. “And then?” said Ann Veronica. “You’re an idiot and your attitude is repugnant. She left for good after he fell asleep. Before Jonathan followed he turned to face his assailants.
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