Ностромо
Chapter 7
Thereisabovethemiddlepartofthishouseasortoffirstfloor,withnarrowopeningslikeloopholesforwindows,probablyusedinoldtimesforthebetterdefenceagainstthesavages,whenthepersistentbarbarismofournativecontinentdidnotweartheblackcoatsofpoliticians,butwentaboutyelling,half-naked,withbowsandarrowsinitshands.Thewomanofthehouseisdyingupthere,Ibelieve,allalonewithheroldhusband.Thereisanarrowstaircase,thesortofstaircaseonemancouldeasilydefendagainstamob,leadingupthere,andIhavejustheard,throughthethicknessofthewall,theoldfellowgoingdownintotheirkitchenforsomethingorother.Itwasasortofnoiseamousemightmakebehindtheplasterofawall.Alltheservantstheyhadranawayyesterdayandhavenotreturnedyet,ifevertheydo.Fortherest,thereareonlytwochildrenhere,twogirls.Thefatherhassentthemdownstairs,andtheyhavecreptintothiscafe,perhapsbecauseIamhere.Theyhuddletogetherinacorner,ineachother’sarms;Ijustnoticedthemafewminutesago,andIfeelmorelonelythanever.”
Decoudturnedhalfroundinhischair,andasked,“Isthereanybreadhere?”
Linda’sdarkheadwasshakennegativelyinresponse,abovethefairheadofhersisternestlingonherbreast.
“Youcouldn’tgetmesomebread?”insistedDecoud.Thechilddidnotmove;hesawherlargeeyesstareathimverydarkfromthecorner.“You’renotafraidofme?”hesaid.
