But he looked back into the hall and spoke to the sergeant who could just be seen behind him. ’ He turned to Melusine, ignoring the indignant protest that greeted his words. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull. She killed a man who was squatting outside of a freezing brick shanty on the southern edge of Chicago as he waited for his dealer. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. 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.
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