In reality, at some points there was a gap of tens of centimetres, but the lights, the movement, the distance and the magic of the circus, what the professionals called the ropes, created for the audience what they wanted to believe in the circus, a miracle.
But it was also the case that Dolly, was very gullible, and had she not been, she might not have been a trapeze artist, for she would have wanted to be a detective story writer. But her uncle had led her to believe that there were no such things as female detective writers, and Dolly’s ideal, Agatha Christie, was in fact a Polish man.
After they’d done the trick dozens of times, Dolly believed in the magic of the circus herself, and left the wire off.
It didn’t bother anyone.