and missed his grip."

"She might have fallen clear of the net," I said, "and come down on the
audience."

"When we slip a trick," said Ascher, "it will be on the audience that we
shall come down; and the audience, the people, will be bruised and hurt,
won't in the least know what has happened."

Gorman--I suddenly recollected this--had an adventure in finance to
propose. If Ascher goes into the scheme I shall have an opportunity of
watching an interesting variant of the trapeze act. We shall get the
people, who own the existing cash registers on the swing and then hold
them to ransom. We shall set our small trapeze oscillating right across
their airy path and decline to remove it unless they agree to part with
some of the very shiniest of their spangles and hand them over to us
for our adornment. I wondered how Ascher, who is so deeply moved by
the perils of his own flights, would like the idea of destroying other
people's confidence and upsetting their calculations.

I looked down and saw that Gorman had left his seat. Mrs. Ascher had
been making good progress with Tim. The boy was leaning towards her and
talking eagerly. She lay back in her seat and smiled at him. If she
were not interested in what he was saying she succeeded very well in
pretending that she was. All really charming women practise this form of
deception and all men are taken in by it if it is well done. Mrs. Ascher
does it very well.

When the net was cleared away and the trapezes slung up again in the
roof, we had a musical ride, performed by six men and six women mounted
on very shiny horses. Mrs. Ascher, of course, objected strongly to the
music. I could see her squirming in her seat. Ascher did not find
the thing interesting and began to fidget. It was, indeed, much less
suggestive than either the learned horse or the acrobats. You cannot
discover in a musical ride any parable with a meaning applicable to
life. Nothing in the world goes so smoothly and pleasantly. There are
always risks even when there are no catastrophes, and catastrophes are
far too common. Ascher probably felt that we were out of touch with
humanity. He kept looking round, as if seeking some way of escape.

Fortunately Gorman turned up again very soon.

"I hope you won't mind," he said, "but I have changed the arrangement
for supper. Mrs. Ascher," he nodded towards the seat in which she was
writhing, "wants to meet the Galleotti family. They're not a family, you
know,