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Updated: June 3, 2025
And Freya, as though irresistibly affected by these counsels, threw one arm around the doctor's globular, corseted figure, while convulsively clasping Ulysses' right hand. The gold-rimmed spectacles, with their protecting gleam, appeared to incite them to even greater intimacy. There entered a man of Ferragut's age, but shorter, with a weather-beaten face.
Satisfied with these experiments, she replaced her treasures in the casket and set herself to beguiling the passing monotony, again devoting herself to Ulysses. These long imprisonments in an atmosphere charged with perfumes, Oriental tobaccos, and feminine seduction were gradually disordering Ferragut's mind.
He would make him understand that he had come to Naples just to take him away with him, like a good comrade who comes to another's rescue in time of danger. Perhaps he might be irritated and give him a blow, but he would eventually accede to his proposition. Ferragut's character was reborn in him with all the force of decisive argument.
"In love!... In love, as you were!" said, with scornful accent, the voice of Ferragut's prudent counselor. The periodicals were protesting against this delay in the execution of the sentence. The name of Freya Talberg was beginning to be heard in conversation as an argument against the weakness of the government. The women were the most implacable.
Ferragut's wandering life as a pilot abounded in dramatic adventures, a few always standing out clearly from his many confused recollections of exotic lands and interminable seas. In Glasgow he embarked as second mate on an old sailing tramp that was bound for Chile, to unload coal in Valparaiso and take on saltpeter in Iquique.
A wind of infinite purity that came perhaps from the other side of the planet slipping past thousands of leagues, over the salty deserts without touching a single bit of corruption would come stealing into Ferragut's throat like an effervescent wine. His chest always expanded to the impulses of this life-giving draught as his eyes roved over the sparkling, luminous blue of the horizon.
Through his "distinguished friend, Madame Talberg," he had heard of many of Ferragut's nautical adventures. Men of action, the heroes of the ocean, were always exceedingly interesting to him. Ulysses suddenly noticed in his noble interlocutor a warm affection, a desire to make himself agreeable, just like the doctor's.
Upon installing himself in an upper room, with a view of the blue circle of the gulf framed by the outlines of the balcony, Ferragut's first move was to change a bill for five liras into coppers, preparatory to asking various questions.
But a second had not passed before something else was added to the first shock, refuting Ferragut's suppositions. The blue and luminous air was rent with the thud of a thunderclap.
Her astuteness was quite accustomed to eluding pursuit, and without Ferragut's knowing exactly how, she slipped away, mingling with the groups near the Plaza of Catalunia. "I shall not go," was the first thing that Ferragut said on finding himself alone. He knew just what that invitation signified.
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