It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men. 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. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. She went out into the hall, where she met the Jedsons in their kimonos. CHAPTER XIII.
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