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That doctor was an enemy of the people a tempter. . . . Old Giorgio's heavy frame shook from head to foot with the effort to overcome his emotion at the sight of that man, who had shared the intimacies of his domestic life as though he had been a grown-up son. "She believed you would return," he said, solemnly. Nostromo raised his head. "She was a wise woman. How could I fail to come back ?"
He understood perfectly what was being done from the talk, but did not disclose his presence from the fear that he would not be allowed to remain. His only idea at the time, overpowering and masterful, was to get away from this terrible Sulaco. And now he regretted it very much. He had heard Nostromo talk to Decoud, and wished himself back on shore.
I sat on the steps of the cathedral with Nostromo, after sending out the cable message for the information of a more or less attentive world.
Surprise and rage rendered him speechless, and the doctor pursued, practically unheard by Nostromo, whose stirred blood was beating violently in his ears. "For I am convinced Sotillo in possession of the silver would have turned short round and made for some small port abroad. Economically it would have been wasteful, but still less wasteful than having it sunk.
The inception of "The Secret Agent" followed immediately on a two years' period of intense absorption in the task of writing that remote novel, "Nostromo," with its far off Latin-American atmosphere; and the profoundly personal "Mirror of the Sea."
"His Excellency Don Vincente Ribiera," he used to say, "whom I and that fellow of mine, Nostromo, had the honour, sir, and the pleasure of saving from a cruel death, deferred too much to his Congress. It was a mistake a distinct mistake, sir."
In "Nostromo" he broods upon the destructive power of a fixed idea; in "The Rescue" upon the result of flinging together elemental characters of the kind that life keeps separate; in "Youth" upon the illusions, more real than reality, of youth.
I have been talking with the telegraphist in the middle of the Plaza Mayor; thus I am certain that we could not have been overheard. There was not even a bird in the air near us. And also let me tell you something more. I have been making friends with this man called Nostromo, the Capataz.
He will see it every time he closes his eyes. He will never forget it till he is dead and even then Doctor, did you ever hear of the miserable gringos on Azuera, that cannot die? Ha! ha! Sailors like myself. There is no getting away from a treasure that once fastens upon your mind." "You are a devil of a man, Capataz. It is the most plausible thing." Nostromo pressed his arm.
"He is, since last Sunday." "He ought to be spoken to at once." "Who will dare speak to him? Even the love-mad Ramirez runs away from the mere shadow of Captain Fidanza." "I can. I will," Mrs. Gould declared. "A word will be enough for a man like Nostromo." The doctor smiled sourly. "He must end this situation which lends itself to I can't believe it of that child," pursued Mrs. Gould.
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