Ностромо
Chapter 11
Theblack-eyedLindasleepsalldayandwatchesthelightallnight.Notallday,though.Sheisuptowardsfiveintheafternoon,whenourNostromo,wheneverheisinharbourwithhisschooner,comesoutonhiscourtingvisit,pullinginasmallboat.”
“Aren’ttheymarriedyet?”Mrs.Gouldasked.“Themotherwishedit,asfarasIcanunderstand,whileLindawasyetquiteachild.WhenIhadthegirlswithmeforayearorsoduringtheWarofSeparation,thatextraordinaryLindausedtodeclarequitesimplythatshewasgoingtobeGian’Battista’swife.”
“Theyarenotmarriedyet,”saidthedoctor,curtly.“Ihavelookedafterthemalittle.”
“Thankyou,dearDr.Monygham,”saidMrs.Gould;andundertheshadeofthebigtreesherlittle,eventeethgleamedinayouthfulsmileofgentlemalice.“Peopledon’tknowhowreallygoodyouare.Youwillnotletthemknow,asifonpurposetoannoyme,whohaveputmyfaithinyourgoodheartlongago.”
Thedoctor,withaliftingupofhisupperlip,asthoughhewerelongingtobite,bowedstifflyinhischair.Withtheutterabsorptionofamantowhomlovecomeslate,notasthemostsplendidofillusions,butlikeanenlighteningandpricelessmisfortune,thesightofthatwoman(ofwhomhehadbeendeprivedfornearlyayear)suggestedideasofadoration,ofkissingthehemofherrobe.Andthisexcessoffeelingtranslateditselfnaturallyintoanaugmentedgrimnessofspeech.
