Nostromo - A Tale of the Seaboard.pdf - Planet eBook

have carried so far, though there was enough ardour in histone to melt a heart of ice. Antonia turned away abruptly, asif to carry his whispered assurance into the room behind,full of light, noisy with voices.The tide of political speculation was beating high withinthe four walls of the great sala, as if driven beyond themarks by a great gust of hope. Don Juste’s fan-shapedbeard was still the centre of loud and animated discussions.There was a self-confident ring in all the voices. Even thefew Europeans around Charles Gould—a Dane, a couple ofFrenchmen, a discreet fat German, smiling, with down-casteyes, the representatives of those material interests that hadgot a footing in Sulaco under the protecting might of theSan Tome mine—had infused a lot of good humour intotheir deference. Charles Gould, to whom they were payingtheir court, was the visible sign of the stability that couldbe achieved on the shifting ground of revolutions. They felthopeful about their various undertakings. One of the twoFrenchmen, small, black, with glittering eyes lost in an immensegrowth of bushy beard, waved his tiny brown handsand delicate wrists. He had been travelling in the interiorof the province for a syndicate of European capitalists. Hisforcible ‘Monsieur l’ Administrateur’ returning every minuteshrilled above the steady hum of conversations. He wasrelating his discoveries. He was ecstatic. Charles Gouldglanced down at him courteously.At a given moment of these necessary receptions it wasMrs. Gould’s habit to withdraw quietly into a little drawing-room,especially her own, next to the great sala. She