Page 114 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

When in Sulaco it was his practice to smoke and doze all
day long (as though he had no care in the world) on a stone
bench outside the doorway of the Casa Gould and facing
the windows of the Avellanos house. Years and years ago
his mother had been chief laundry-woman in that fami-
ly—very accomplished in the matter of clear-starching. He
himself had been born on one of their haciendas. His name
was Bonifacio, and Don Jose, crossing the street about five
o’clock to call on Dona Emilia, always acknowledged his
humble salute by some movement of hand or head. The por-
ters of both houses conversed lazily with him in tones of
grave intimacy. His evenings he devoted to gambling and
to calls in a spirit of generous festivity upon the peyne d’oro
girls in the more remote side-streets of the town. But he, too,
was a discreet man.

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