Ностромо
Chapter 4
Foryearsitsgnawinghadbeenpartofthelandscapeembracingtheglitteroftheharbourunderthewoodedspursoftherange;andthesunshineitselfwasheavyanddull—heavywithpain—notlikethesunshineofhergirlhood,inwhichmiddle-agedGiorgiohadwooedhergravelyandpassionatelyontheshoresofthegulfofSpezzia.
“Yougoinatonce,Giorgio,”shedirected.“Onewouldthinkyoudonotwishtohaveanypityonme—withfourSignoriInglesistayinginthehouse.”“Vabene,vabene,”Giorgiowouldmutter.Heobeyed.TheSignoriInglesiwouldrequiretheirmiddaymealpresently.Hehadbeenoneoftheimmortalandinvinciblebandofliberatorswhohadmadethemercenariesoftyrannyflylikechaffbeforeahurricane,“unuraganoterribile.”Butthatwasbeforehewasmarriedandhadchildren;andbeforetyrannyhadreareditsheadagainamongstthetraitorswhohadimprisonedGaribaldi,hishero.
Therewerethreedoorsinthefrontofthehouse,andeachafternoontheGaribaldinocouldbeseenatoneoranotherofthemwithhisbigbushofwhitehair,hisarmsfolded,hislegscrossed,leaningbackhisleonineheadagainsttheside,andlookingupthewoodedslopesofthefoothillsatthesnowydomeofHiguerota.Thefrontofhishousethrewoffablacklongrectangleofshade,broadeningslowlyoverthesoftox-carttrack.
