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Chapter 8

           Andhowlongdoyouthinkyouaregoingtokeepitup?”

           “AslongasIcan.”

           “Whatdoesthatmean?”

           “Icantellyouexactly.AslongasIlive,”thedoctorretortedinastubbornvoice.Then,inafewwords,hedescribedthestoryofhisarrestandthecircumstancesofhisrelease.“Iwasgoingbacktothatsillyscoundrelwhenwemet,”heconcluded.

           Nostromohadlistenedwithprofoundattention.“Youhavemadeupyourmind,then,toaspeedydeath,”hemutteredthroughhisclenchedteeth.

           “Perhaps,myillustriousCapataz,”thedoctorsaid,testily.“Youarenottheonlyoneherewhocanlookanuglydeathintheface.”

           “Nodoubt,”mumbledNostromo,loudenoughtobeoverheard.“Theremaybeevenmorethantwofoolsinthisplace.Whoknows?”

           “Andthatismyaffair,”saidthedoctor,curtly.

           “Astakingouttheaccursedsilvertoseawasmyaffair,”retortedNostromo.“Isee.Bueno!Eachofushashisreasons.ButyouwerethelastmanIconversedwithbeforeIstarted,andyoutalkedtomeasifIwereafool.”

           Nostromohadagreatdistasteforthedoctor’ssardonictreatmentofhisgreatreputation.Decoud’sfaintlyironicrecognitionusedtomakehimuneasy;butthefamiliarityofamanlikeDonMartinwasflattering,whereasthedoctorwasanobody.

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