He was watching Manuel out in the centre of the arena.

The crowd applauded Hernandez as they marched across the arena.

Zurito pulled his hat down low and looked out across the arena at Manuel.

He charged blindly into the cape and the boy took him out into the open arena.

There was another roar from the arena and then applause, prolonged applause, going on and on.

Behind them came the jingle of the mules, coming out to go into the arena and be hitched onto the dead bull.

The red door of the toril swung back and for a moment Zurito looked into the empty passageway far across the arena.

The trumpeter, up under the roof, blew for the final act, and Manuel walked across the arena toward where, up in the dark boxes, the president must be.

Heads up, swinging with the music, their right arms swinging free, they stepped out, crossing the sanded arena under the arc-lights, the cuadrillas opening out behind, the picadors riding after, behind came the bullring servants and the jingling mules.