"He has quite the air of one. "Concerning whom?" "Mrs. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. Wild's orders. Here's your health in a bumper, and wishing you a better husband than your first. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. She went to her bedroom, but she did not go to bed. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. 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.
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