S. " "Man, in God's name, come with me and tell her this!" urged Spurlock. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head. 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. Still, the respite was sufficient for Spurlock to look about for some weapon. Horrible details recurred to her.
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