from such remote mood and become suddenly animated and gay, she would have despaired of any pleasure in his visit.  Above everything else she was minded to ask him if he had seen her father, and if her father had spoken to him about her Elizabeth.  But shyness prevented her, and she spoke to him about ordinary things, and he answered her questions perfunctorily, and without any apparent reason he got up and walked about the room; but not looking at any object, he walked about, with hanging head, absorbed in thought.  “If he won’t look at me he might look at my room, I’m sure that is pretty enough,” and she sat watching him with smiling eyes.  When she asked him what he thought of the Boucher, he said that no doubt it was very graceful, but that the only art he took interest in, except Michael Angelo and Leonardo da Vinci and some German Primitives, was Blake.  Then he seemed to forget all about her, and she had begun to think his manner more than usually unconventional, and, having made all the ordinary remarks she could think of, she asked him suddenly if he had seen her father, and if he had said anything to him about her Elizabeth.

“I went to Dulwich on purpose to hear.”

She blushed, and was very happy.  It was delicious to hear that he was sufficiently interested in her to go to Dulwich on purpose to inquire her father’s opinion of her Elizabeth.

“I wonder if he will like my Isolde as well.”

He did not answer, and his silence filled her with inquietude.

“I have been thinking over what you said regarding your conception of the part.”

She waited for him to tell her what conclusion he had come to, but he said nothing.  At last he got up, and she followed him to the piano.  When she came to the passage where Isolde tells Brangaene that she intended to kill Tristan, he stopped.

“But she is violent; hear these chords, how aggressive they are.  The music is against you.  Listen to these chords.”

“I know those chords well enough.  You don’t suppose I am listening to them for the first time.  I admit that there are a few places where she is distinctly violent.  The curse must be given violently, but I think it is possible to make it felt that her violence is a sexual violence, a sort of wish to go mad.  I can’t explain.  Can’t you understand?”

“Yes, I think I do; you want to sing the first part of the act languidly.  There is more in the music which supports your reading than I thought.  In the passage where Isolde says to Brangaene, but really to herself, ‘To die without having been loved by that man!’ the love motive appears here for the first time, but more drawn out, broader than elsewhere.”

She declared that Wagner had emphasised his meaning in this passage as if he had anticipated all the misreadings of this first act, and was striving to guard himself against them.  She grew excited in the discussion.  She had merely followed her instinct, but she was glad that Ulick had challenged her reading, for as they examined the music clause by clause, they found still further warrant for her conception.