Then, like Lucifer, he fell.

Slowly the stars receded, the music slackened, people rocked on to their feet again...
The Two-Headed Giant slipped hack once more into his place, he saw the sinister lady still devouring her supper, women looking up at him gaped.
His horse gave a last little leap and died.
This marvellous experience he repeated four times, and every time with an ecstasy more complete than the last.

He rushed to a height, he fell, he rushed again, he fell, and at every return to a sober life his one intention was instantly to be off on his steed once more.

He was about to start on his fifth journey, he had paid his halfpenny, he was sitting forward with his hands on the black mane, his eyes, staring, were filled already with the glory that he knew was coming to him, his cheeks were crimson, his hat on the back of his head, his hair flying.

He heard a voice, quiet and cool, a little below him, but very near: "Jeremy...