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Updated: May 7, 2025
If that someone should see me and and recognize me!" "You forget, Kaya; did I recognize you?" "No, but the foot-lights were not in my face. When the House is crowded and the curtain is up, and the glare is full in my eyes, then " "You are disguised by the hair red-blonde, and the helmet covering. No one could tell! At a distance you are not Kaya, you are Brünnhilde. Brünnhilde is always the same.
"O Siegfried, Herrliche Hort der Welt! Leben der Erde, lachender Held!" Her red-blonde hair shone in the light and the helmet glittered: "Siegfried! Siegfried!" It was the Lehmann come back! Ah, no it was more than the Lehmann! Ritter gazed and listened, and his heart gave a leap.
He asked if he was not to have the pleasure of seeing Miss Dryfoos, too; and Mela said she reckoned the girl had gone up-stairs to tell her. Mela was in black, and Beaton noted how well the solid sable became her rich red-blonde beauty; he wondered what the effect would be with Christine. But she, when she appeared, was not in mourning.
Drawn to her height she stood, the helmet tipped back on her red-blonde hair, the white robes trailing about her, the spear uplifted. As she sang her throat swelled, her voice came like a torrent: above the wood-winds and strings, the brass and the basses, the single voice soared higher and higher, deeper and richer, full of passion and pure. "Heil dir, Sonne! Heil dir, Licht!
He asked if he was not to have the pleasure of seeing Miss Dryfoos, too; and Mela said she reckoned the girl had gone up-stairs to tell her. Mela was in black, and Beaton noted how well the solid sable became her rich red-blonde beauty; he wondered what the effect would be with Christine. But she, when she appeared, was not in mourning.
Ritter paused in the doorway. The prima-donna was standing before the pier-glass, still in costume; her soft, white robes trailed over the floor, and her red-blonde hair hung to her waist. The helmet glittered on her head, and she held her spear aloft as if about to utter the Walküre cry. The figure was superb, magnificent; a goddess at bay.
He asked if he was not to have the pleasure of seeing Miss Dryfoos, too; and Mela said she reckoned the girl had gone up-stairs to tell her. Mela was in black, and Beaton noted how well the solid sable became her rich red-blonde beauty; he wondered what the effect would be with Christine. But she, when she appeared, was not in mourning.
Blair absently, her mind occupied by her young daughter's large sophistication. "Johnny," said Ruth. She leaned half out the window as the red roadster shot thunderously across the rustic bridge and brought up sharply on the driveway below. With a shouted greeting she brought the driver's red-blonde head to attention. "Hullo where's the Bob?" Johnny grinned.
Do you think I am blind and deaf as well as old? Look at me as I stand here! I am Brünnhilde!" The form of the singer was rigid, drawn to its height; the head thrown back and the helmet glittering on her red-blonde hair. Her eyes were proud and scornful. "Am I not Brünnhilde?" "Yes yes!" cried Ritter, drawing back in a dazed way: "You are magnificent, Madame.
He trampled on it as he sprang, snatching her into his arms: "Kaya!" His grip was like a band of steel and he wound his arms about her, pressing her to him: "Kaya, my beloved! Ah, my beloved speak to me! Open your eyes! Look at me!" He tore the helmet from her head and flung it to the ground. The red-blonde hair fell back, and he kissed her cheek and her curls.
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