“You are afraid,” she said, “that the young man who thinks that he is my husband has upset me. “I thought that I heard a groan,” Anna whispered. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. “A man who does not touch his wife, who ignores his wife, what kind of man is he? I am not sick any more. “You should quit. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. 1. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. 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. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. “I can only repeat what I said before,” she declared. . She was as fair as the lily of the lotus.
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