. He went over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. 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. But when she reached the pavement outside her teeth were clenched, and she carried herself unconsciously an inch or so higher. “Will you be moral and your species, or immoral and yourself? We’ve decided to be immoral. Anna stepped back at once with a little gasp of relief.
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