” “Well?” “Lunch! I am hungry—tragically hungry. “You left the TV on when you fell asleep in the living room, so I turned it off. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ” 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. ” Ennison took an easy chair.
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