Ностромо

           ”

           Histoneremainedlight,andasifunawareofhispresenceshestoodmotionless,herhandsclaspedlightly,thefanhangingdownfromherinterlacedfingers.Hewaitedforawhile,andthen—

           “Ishallgotothewall,”hesaid,withasortofjoculardesperation.

           Eventhatdeclarationdidnotmakeherlookathim.Herheadremainedstill,hereyesfixeduponthehouseoftheAvellanos,whosechippedpilasters,brokencornices,thewholedegradationofdignitywashiddennowbythegatheringduskofthestreet.Inherwholefigureherlipsalonemoved,formingthewords—

           “Martin,youwillmakemecry.”

           Heremainedsilentforaminute,startled,asifoverwhelmedbyasortofawedhappiness,withthelinesofthemockingsmilestillstiffenedabouthismouth,andincreduloussurpriseinhiseyes.Thevalueofasentenceisinthepersonalitywhichuttersit,fornothingnewcanbesaidbymanorwoman;andthosewerethelastwords,itseemedtohim,thatcouldeverhavebeenspokenbyAntonia.Hehadnevermadeitupwithhersocompletelyinalltheirintercourseofsmallencounters;butevenbeforeshehadtimetoturntowardshim,whichshedidslowlywitharigidgrace,hehadbeguntoplead—

           “Mysisterisonlywaitingtoembraceyou.Myfatheristransportedwithjoy.Iwon’tsayanythingofmymother!Ourmotherswerelikesisters.Thereisthemail-boatforthesouthnextweek—letusgo.