“Were you ever afraid?”
“I was afraid many, many times. On those occasions I never put my faith in the Virgin, but rather in my legs and ran as fast as I could. The bull, however, is the noblest of animals and the bravest. He never makes a cowardly attack from behind; he is so frank! He is terrible, though; a man needs nerve to face him when he comes into the ring pawing the earth and bellowing.”
“Will you tell me about the bull that was the hardest of all to kill?” asked Patsy.
The matador’s face changed: “He was a white bull,” he said, slowly, “and he didn’t want to fight. When he first came in, he put his muzzle in my hand. He followed me about like a little
THE DEATH OF THE MATADOR. Villegas
dog. I led him with the cloak wherever I wanted him to go. Yes, that was the hardest bull of all to kill.”
J., who had been looking at the matador ever since he came into the studio, nodded his head as if satisfied.