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Ann Veronica looked up at him and found him regarding her with eyes that
were almost woebegone, and into which, indeed, he was trying to throw much
more expression than they could carry. 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. “Look round the table,” she said. The wounded man had
descended the bridge, and dashed himself against the door beyond it; but, finding
it impossible to force his way further, he turned to confront his assailants. ”
“Can’t we arrange something? Can’t we make a sort of treaty?”
“He wouldn’t keep it. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What
are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?”
She steeled herself, refusing to react. Yes. She pitted aspirants against each
other in any way imaginable, with tests of science, math,
and sometimes will alone. But I'm not worrying about that. She stared
down at them from a high window, peering down at their
moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed
where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. You
will never be happy with this hanging over you.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 09-07-2024 10:49:37