Ностромо
Chapter 8
”
“Youforget,Capataz,Iwasnotonthewharf.AndIdidnotthinkwellofthebusiness.Soyouneednottauntme.Itellyouwhat,man,wehadbutlittleleisuretothinkofthedead.Deathstandsnearbehindusall.Youweregone.”
“Iwent,indeed!”brokeinNostromo.“Andforthesakeofwhat—tellme?”
“Ah!thatisyourownaffair,”thedoctorsaid,roughly.“Donotaskme.”
Theirflowingmurmurspausedinthedark.Perchedontheedgeofthetablewithslightlyavertedfaces,theyfelttheirshoulderstouch,andtheireyesremaineddirectedtowardsanuprightshapenearlylostintheobscurityoftheinnerpartoftheroom,thatwithprojectingheadandshoulders,inghastlyimmobility,seemedintentoncatchingeveryword.
“Muybien!”Nostromomutteredatlast.“Sobeit.Teresawasright.Itismyownaffair.”
“Teresaisdead,”remarkedthedoctor,absently,whilehismindfollowedanewlineofthoughtsuggestedbywhatmighthavebeencalledNostromo’sreturntolife.“Shedied,thepoorwoman.”
“Withoutapriest?”theCapatazasked,anxiously.
“Whataquestion!Whocouldhavegotapriestforherlastnight?”
“MayGodkeephersoul!”ejaculatedNostromo,withagloomyandhopelessfervourwhichhadnotimetosurpriseDr.Monygham,before,revertingtotheirpreviousconversation,hecontinuedinasinistertone,“Si,senordoctor.
