To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on his betrothed. He had been abusing them for a long time when I arrived. 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. CHAPTER III. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. But his treasured dream lay shattered at his feet.
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