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. "Attend to me, Mrs. ‘Here we go again. ‘I should never have told you. ‘Now then, where did you spring from?’ ‘Do not concern yourself from where I come,’ Melusine snapped. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. At other times he seemed to have regained the normal completely.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjE5MS4zNC4xNjkgLSAwMS0wNi0yMDI0IDIxOjU2OjEzIC0gMTc2MTA5Mjk3NQ==
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