She bent forward and laid a
gentle hand on his arm.
"Never mind the rest; it's almost too horrible
to talk about."
He stared doubtfully at the hand, shook his
head, and went on steadily:
"Then one day I met a travelling variety show.
You remember that one the other night; well, that
sort of thing, only coarser and more indecent.
The Zambos are not like these gentle Florentines;
they don't care for anything that is not foul or
brutal. There was bull-fighting, too, of course.
They had camped out by the roadside for the
night; and I went up to their tent to beg. Well,
the weather was hot and I was half starved, and
so--I fainted at the door of the tent. I had a
trick of fainting suddenly at that time, like a
boarding-school girl with tight stays. So they
took me in and gave me brandy, and food, and so
on; and then--the next morning--they offered
me----"
Another pause.
"They wanted a hunchback, or monstrosity of
some kind; for the boys to pelt with orange-peel
and banana-skins--something to set the blacks
laughing------ You saw the clown that night--
well, I was that--for two years.
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