The moment he was out in the hall, Ruth sat up hugging and rocking her body in delight. With this view, Jack was carried—for he was no longer able to move without assistance— to a ward called the Castle, situated over the gateway on the western side, in what was considered the strongest part of the jail. 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. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so.
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