second time, transformed in white satin and pale blue,
the thinness of her neck and arms painfully apparent.

The flying rush through the air as she jumped the hurdles and gates
made her feel horribly dazed and giddy, and unable to collect her
senses in time for the next leap. As she descended lightly in her
heelless silk slippers upon Don Juan's back after the fourth hurdle had
been passed, she swayed and only by a violent effort recovered herself.
Her heart seemed to be beating right up in her throat and choking her.
She put up one hand and pulled at her turquoise collar till the clasp
gave way and thrust the blue stones into the low-cut bodice. The band
sounded louder than ever, the light danced and waved. Round and round
and round again, while the ring-master's whip cracked monotonously.

The rhythm of the waltz beat in her brain as the music in some
delirious dream. She wondered dully why there was so little applause
now. Was she doing so badly? Once she had jumped too low and knocked
against a hurdle instead of clearing it properly. The grooms had
helped her by lowering everything as much as possible, but all they
could do had not been able to disguise her unwonted awkwardness.

She would have a few minutes' rest when the clown came on, and perhaps
that would help her to go through the rest of the act without an
absolute breakdown.

The interlude was all too short, the signal came and she sprang up and
poised herself mechanically. Again the waltz music struck up and Don
Juan's hoofs fell with a soft thud upon the tan. The hurdles and gates
had all been cleared successfully, and now she must dismount and let
her steed go round alone while she ran across from the opposite side of
the ring and vaulted from the ground to the saddle.

It was the trick she had found impossible to get through at the
rehearsal, the trick she most dreaded. Everything depended on her
coolness and steadiness. She must start exactly at the right time, and
measure the distance with unerring precision. For the first time in
her life she feared the audience. She knew too well the fickle nature
of a Spanish crowd. To a performer who failed to please them they
would be merciless. People who screamed aloud for more blood when the
sport had been tame at a bull-fight, people who habitually tortured
their animals, were not likely to show consideration to one who was
paid to entertain them. They would applaud furiously one minute an