And Pottiswick, of course. ’ Gerald cast a swift look up the corridor, but there was no one there, not even a shadow. 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. ’ To her astonishment, Gosse’s servile attitude vanished abruptly.
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