It was wonderful. ” The girl on the lounge drew a long sobbing breath. She turned to the stage, and Tristan was wounded in Kurvenal’s arms, with Isolde at his feet, and King Mark, the incarnation of masculine force and obligation, the masculine creditor of love and beauty, stood over him, and the second climax was ending in wreaths and reek of melodies; and then the curtain was coming down in a series of short rushes, the music had ended, and the people were stirring and breaking out into applause, and the lights of the auditorium were resuming. “Now I suppose Brendon understands exactly what you mean,” he remarked. "Quilt Arnold called this morning to say so. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. Both started.
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