As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. ” 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. The figure she had longed to see came into her line of vision, but at this crucial moment of hideous realisation, Melusine barely took it in, her eyes fixing blankly on the man behind. . There was a girlfriend who was mentally ill. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible.
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