Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. 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. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. "Ah! I see. His example was followed by Darrell.
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