“Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. “A man like that taints a girl by looking at her, by his mere conversation. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. Only she hadn’t. By this time, several of the terrified domestics appeared with lights. “Lucy, that’s horrible. 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 the twins were so fucked over at that point they were zombies. Money was not necessary; indeed, it would have embarrassed all concerned. He would refuse to listen and absolve her unshriven.
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