Ностромо

           Hernonchalantandseductivevoicetrembledwiththeexcitementofadmiringaweandungovernablecuriosity.

           “Atreasureofsilver!”shestammeredout.Thenpressedonfaster:“What?Where?Howdidyougetit,Giovanni?”

           Hewrestledwiththespellofcaptivity.Itwasasifstrikingaheroicblowthatheburstout—

           “Likeathief!”

           ThedensestblacknessofthePlacidGulfseemedtofalluponhishead.Hecouldnotseehernow.Shehadvanishedintoalong,obscureabysmalsilence,whencehervoicecamebacktohimafteratimewithafaintglimmer,whichwasherface.

           “Iloveyou!Iloveyou!”

           Thesewordsgavehimanunwontedsenseoffreedom;theycastaspellstrongerthantheaccursedspellofthetreasure;theychangedhiswearysubjectiontothatdeadthingintoanexultingconvictionofhispower.Hewouldcherishher,hesaid,inasplendourasgreatasDonaEmilia’s.Therichlivedonwealthstolenfromthepeople,buthehadtakenfromtherichnothing—nothingthatwasnotlosttothemalreadybytheirfollyandtheirbetrayal.Forhehadbeenbetrayed—hesaid—deceived,tempted.Shebelievedhim....Hehadkeptthetreasureforpurposesofrevenge;butnowhecarednothingforit.Hecaredonlyforher.Hewouldputherbeautyinapalaceonahillcrownedwitholivetrees—awhitepalaceaboveabluesea.Hewouldkeephertherelikeajewelinacasket.