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Oh, she may manage to extract five or six hundred a year from some investments of my uncle, and she has the old Harned place in New Hampshire. That might bring in as much as seven hundred dollars if the abandoned farm-fever were still on " "By ginger!" boasted Brockton, whose expletives lacked ton, "it's more than I had when I started." "So I remember your saying before.
Maria Valenzuela there was scorn in her smile as she said: "They kill each other often is it not so? I have read it in the papers." "But the bull," said John Harned. "The bull is killed many times in the bull-fight, and the bull does not come into the the ring out of desire. It is not fair to the bull. He is compelled to fight. But the man in the prize-fight no; he is not compelled."
The sword missed the heart and stuck out half a yard through the ribs on the opposite side. The audience hissed the matador. I glanced at John Harned. He sat silent, without movement; but I could see his teeth were set, and his hands were clenched tight on the railing of the box.
"Or one man against five bulls," said Maria Valenzuela; and we all laughed, and Luis Ceryallos laughed loudest. "Yes," said John Harned, "against five bulls, and the man, like the bulls, never in the bull ring before a man like yourself, Senor Crevallos."
The capadors teased the bull their capes, and when it charged them they ran toward the horse and into their shelters. At last the bull was angry, and it saw the horse before it. "The horse does not know, the horse does not know," John Harned whispered to himself, unaware that he voiced his thought aloud.
It is fine. It is rare." "Not always," said Luis Cervallos. "I have seen clumsy matadors, and I tell you it is not nice." He shuddered, and his face betrayed such what-you-call disgust, that I knew, then, that the devil was whispering and that he was beginning to play a part. "Senor Harned may be right," said Luis Cervallos. "It may not be fair to the bull.
If Luis Cervallos married Maria Valenzuela I should have more money very immediately. But John Harned followed Maria Valenzuela to Quito, and it was quickly clear to us to Luis Cervallos and me that she looked upon John Harned with great kindness. It is said that a woman will have her will, but this is a case not in point, for Maria Valenzuela did not have her will at least not with John Harned.
It was a formula of words which some genius had devised for the fingering practice it gave one on the keyboard, and Joe Harned had written it hundreds of times before, just as thousands of others had done, without giving a thought to its meaning, or the significance that the substitution of a single word would give it.
It was the scream of the horse that did it, that made John Harned completely mad; for he, too, started to rise to his feet, I heard him curse low and deep. He never took his eyes from the horse, which, screaming, strove to run, but fell down instead and rolled on its back so that all its four legs were kicking in the air. Then the bull charged it and gored it again and again until it was dead.
"It is his nature to be deceived," said John Harned. "Wherefore he is doomed to fight wind. The toreadors know it, you know it, I know it we all know from the first that he will fight wind. He only does not know it. It is his stupid beast-nature. He has no chance." "It is very simple," said Luis Cervallos. "The bull shuts his eyes when he charges. Therefore "
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