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

this tedious island. I could hate you, Gian’ Battista!’He laughed loudly. Her voice enveloped him like a caress.She bemoaned her fate, spreading unconsciously, like aflower its perfume in the coolness of the evening, the indefinableseduction of her person. Was it her fault that nobodyever had admired Linda? Even when they were little, goingout with their mother to Mass, she remembered that peopletook no notice of Linda, who was fearless, and chose insteadto frighten her, who was timid, with their attention. It washer hair like gold, she supposed.He broke out—‘Your hair like gold, and your eyes like violets, and yourlips like the rose; your round arms, your white throat.’ …Imperturbable in the indolence of her pose, she blusheddeeply all over to the roots of her hair. She was not conceited.She was no more self-conscious than a flower. But shewas pleased. And perhaps even a flower loves to hear itselfpraised. He glanced down, and added, impetuously—‘Your little feet!’Leaning back against the rough stone wall of the cottage,she seemed to bask languidly in the warmth of the rosyflush. Only her lowered eyes glanced at her little feet.‘And so you are going at last to marry our Linda. She isterrible. Ah! now she will understand better since you havetold her you love her. She will not be so fierce.’‘Chica!’ said Nostromo, ‘I have not told her anything.’‘Then make haste. Come to-morrow. Come and tell her,so that I may have some peace from her scolding and—perhaps—whoknows …’