Ностромо

           Shewouldnotsuffertheseterrorsforeversomuchsilver.Tospeakwithhersistermadeherill.Butshewasnotuneasyatherfather’swatchfulness.ShehadbeggedNostromonottocometothewindowthatnight.Hehadpromisedtokeepawayforthisonce.Andshedidnotknow,couldnotguessorimagine,thathehadanotherreasonforcomingontheisland.

           Lindahadgonestraighttothetower.Itwastimetolightup.Sheunlockedthelittledoor,andwentheavilyupthespiralstaircase,carryingherloveforthemagnificentCapatazdeCargadoreslikeanever-increasingloadofshamefulfetters.No;shecouldnotthrowitoff.No;letHeavendisposeofthesetwo.Andmovingaboutthelantern,filledwithtwilightandthesheenofthemoon,withcarefulmovementsshelightedthelamp.Thenherarmsfellalongherbody.

           “Andwithourmotherlookingon,”shemurmured.“Myownsister—theChica!”

           Thewholerefractingapparatus,withitsbrassfittingsandringsofprisms,glitteredandsparkledlikeadomeshapedshrineofdiamonds,containingnotalamp,butsomesacredflame,dominatingthesea.AndLinda,thekeeper,inblack,withapaleface,droopedlowinawoodenchair,alonewithherjealousy,farabovetheshamesandpassionsoftheearth.Astrange,draggingpainasifsomebodywerepullingheraboutbrutallybyherdarkhairwithbronzeglints,madeherputherhandsuptohertemples.Theywouldmeet.Theywouldmeet.Andsheknewwhere,too.Atthewindow.