I thought that he was dead. “The aces made it easy. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. ” 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. As long as I live here, you stop fucking the children and you stop trying to fuck me. ‘It is nothing at all of the kind. Fas du tout. It is easy enough to sing these little chansons in an original way—it requires a very different sort of ability to succeed on the stage. ‘I am done, Gérard. Instead, her husband was probably wise.
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