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

He drank up all the tea at once in one draught. This performancewas invariably followed by a slight shudder anda low, involuntary ‘br-r-r-r,’ which was not covered by thehasty exclamation, ‘Excellent!’Then giving up the empty cup into his young friend’shand, extended with a smile, he continued to expatiate uponthe patriotic nature of the San Tome mine for the simplepleasure of talking fluently, it seemed, while his recliningbody jerked backwards and forwards in a rocking-chair ofthe sort exported from the United States. The ceiling of thelargest drawing-room of the Casa Gould extended its whitelevel far above his head. The loftiness dwarfed the mixture ofheavy, straight-backed Spanish chairs of brown wood withleathern seats, and European furniture, low, and cushionedall over, like squat little monsters gorged to bursting withsteel springs and horsehair. There were knick-knacks on littletables, mirrors let into the wall above marble consoles,square spaces of carpet under the two groups of armchairs,each presided over by a deep sofa; smaller rugs scattered allover the floor of red tiles; three windows from the ceilingdown to the ground, opening on a balcony, and flanked bythe perpendicular folds of the dark hangings. The statelinessof ancient days lingered between the four high, smoothwalls, tinted a delicate primrose-colour; and Mrs. Gould,with her little head and shining coils of hair, sitting in acloud of muslin and lace before a slender mahogany table,resembled a fairy posed lightly before dainty philtres dispensedout of vessels of silver and porcelain.Mrs. Gould knew the history of the San Tome mine.