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. ’ ‘Did I so?’ Gerald said, amused. “My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years. And I'll answer for it, she'll never say a syllable to annoy you again. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. She did not wait, but grabbed up the lantern and slid into the passage, calling to them to hurry. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. A lawyer has come all the way from America about it. Swinging her arm in an arc, she let go of the foil and it flew across the chapel towards the main door, crashing down between the pews, and clattering onto the floor. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes.
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