C. “The truth!” It was a moment of awkwardness between the two sisters
—a moment, too, charged with its own psychological interest, for there were
secrets between them which for many months had made their intercourse a
constrained and difficult thing. 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. He was
entranced as she walked towards him. ”
“But I love you. E. . ”
He sat like a man turned to stone. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he
had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and
squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. “It’s fine, Michelle. You never saw him before yesterday.
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