Ностромо
Chapter 4
“Doesshenotwantto?”
“Sheistimid,”saidLinda,withalittleburstoflaughter.“Peoplenoticeherfairhairasshegoesalongwithus.Theycalloutafterher,‘LookattheRubia!LookattheRubiacita!’Theycalloutinthestreets.Sheistimid.”
“Andyou?Youarenottimid—eh?”thefatherpronounced,slowly.
Shetossedbackallherdarkhair.
“Nobodycallsoutafterme.”
OldGiorgiocontemplatedhischildrenthoughtfully.Therewastwoyearsdifferencebetweenthem.Theyhadbeenborntohimlate,yearsaftertheboyhaddied.HadhelivedhewouldhavebeennearlyasoldasGian’Battista—hewhomtheEnglishcalledNostromo;butastohisdaughters,theseverityofhistemper,hisadvancingage,hisabsorptioninhismemories,hadpreventedhistakingmuchnoticeofthem.Helovedhischildren,butgirlsbelongmoretothemother,andmuchofhisaffectionhadbeenexpendedintheworshipandserviceofliberty.
WhenquiteayouthhehaddesertedfromashiptradingtoLaPlata,toenlistinthenavyofMontevideo,thenunderthecommandofGaribaldi.Afterwards,intheItalianlegionoftheRepublicstrugglingagainsttheencroachingtyrannyofRosas,hehadtakenpart,ongreatplains,onthebanksofimmenserivers,inthefiercestfightingperhapstheworldhadeverknown.
