Ностромо

           Thatslightgirl,withherlittlefeet,littlehands,littlefaceattractivelyoverweightedbygreatcoilsofhair;witharatherlargemouth,whosemerepartingseemedtobreatheuponyouthefragranceoffranknessandgenerosity,hadthefastidioussoulofanexperiencedwoman.Shewas,beforeallthingsandallflatteries,carefulofherprideintheobjectofherchoice.Butnowhewasactuallynotlookingatheratall;andhisexpressionwastenseandirrational,asisnaturalinamanwhoelectstostareatnothingpastayounggirl’shead.

           “Well,yes.Itwasiniquitous.Theycorruptedhimthoroughly,thepooroldboy.Oh!whywouldn’theletmegobacktohim?ButnowIshallknowhowtograpplewiththis.”

           Afterpronouncingthesewordswithimmenseassurance,heglanceddownather,andatoncefellapreytodistress,incertitude,andfear.

           Theonlythinghewantedtoknownow,hesaid,waswhethershedidlovehimenough—whethershewouldhavethecouragetogowithhimsofaraway?Heputthesequestionstoherinavoicethattrembledwithanxiety—forhewasadeterminedman.

           Shedid.Shewould.AndimmediatelythefuturehostessofalltheEuropeansinSulacohadthephysicalexperienceoftheearthfallingawayfromunderher.Itvanishedcompletely,eventotheverysoundofthebell.Whenherfeettouchedthegroundagain,thebellwasstillringinginthevalley;sheputherhandsuptoherhair,breathingquickly,andglancedupanddownthestonylane.