Ностромо

           “Iforbidtheetoask,”hecriedather,deadeningcautiouslytheangerofhisvoice.

           Hehadnotregainedhisfreedom.Thespectreoftheunlawfultreasurearose,standingbyhersidelikeafigureofsilver,pitilessandsecret,withafingeronitspalelips.Hissouldiedwithinhimatthevisionofhimselfcreepinginpresentlyalongtheravine,withthesmellofearth,ofdampfoliageinhisnostrils—creepingin,determinedinapurposethatnumbedhisbreast,andcreepingoutagainloadedwithsilver,withhisearsalerttoeverysound.Itmustbedoneonthisverynight—thatworkofacravenslave!

           Hestoopedlow,pressedthehemofherskirttohislips,withamutteredcommand—

           “TellhimIwouldnotstay,”andwasgonesuddenlyfromher,silent,withoutasmuchasafootfallinthedarknight.

           Shesatstill,herheadrestingindolentlyagainstthewall,andherlittlefeetinwhitestockingsandblackslipperscrossedovereachother.OldGiorgio,comingout,didnotseemtobesurprisedattheintelligenceasmuchasshehadvaguelyfeared.Forshewasfullofinexplicablefearnow—fearofeverythingandeverybodyexceptofherGiovanniandhistreasure.Butthatwasincredible.

           TheheroicGaribaldinoacceptedNostromo’sabruptdeparturewithasagaciousindulgence.Herememberedhisownfeelings,andexhibitedamasculinepenetrationofthetruestateofthecase.

           “Vabene.Lethimgo.