He leaned over and asked the Mexican next toOwen if
he might change seats with him.
But he made her feel she wanted to get away from
himtoo.
Copyright laws are changing all over the
world.
He swung out of his cloak with a quick little
movement, and held itup to her. And then the cheap insolence of the
servants.
He swung out of his cloak with a quick little
movement, and held itup to her.
Id keep my hat on if I were you, said the cold
voice ofVilliers.
But the Presidents are scarce at bull-fights in
Mexico, nowadays.
After all, one must be able tolook on blood and
bursten bowels calmly: even with a certainthrill. Wont you come and see us there,
andmeet my cousin and Mr Thompson? The bull gave a playful littleprance, neat and
pretty, and charged mildly on the cloak. Yes, and so was the horseon which sat the
other picador. And now the whole thing was over, rather dreary in spirit. Yes, its
quite smart, but Im glad its not my hat, saidVilliers.
Villiers did not understand a word,but he
reiterated:I dont care what it is.
Physical violence was being offered, and the only
retortwas death. Villiers looked at the femalish black coat of the Mexican, and
madean arch grimace at Kate. She had alwaysbeen afraid of bulls, fear tempered with
reverence of the greatMithraic beast. There was that heavy, black Mexican fatality
about him, thatput a burden on her.
There was a ragged interval, then the silver band
piped up.
Relief even to get away from that nice man. How
Kate hated phrases like part of the game. The bull was in the ring again, running
from cloak to cloak,foolishly.
Thank goodness the bulk stayed near the inner end
of the vault.
Then he stopped short, seeing he was notfree, but
surrounded in an unknown way.
But a new terror was the throng inside the tunnel
entrance.
It has been waiting some time, he
replied.
Owen came running after her, flustered, and drawn
in alldirections. The men in black suits wereprobably employees and clerks and
factory hands. He was justgetting the thrill of it, without emotion, coldly and
scientifically,but very intent. Down sat a heavy fellow, plumb between Owens
knees.
A little officer in uniform, wearing a big,
pale-blue cape, madehis way through the crowd. The rain STREAMING on my bald
head,and the crowd behind throwing oranges at it.