" "Conscious; well, that's good news. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. 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. 1.
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