Page 151 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

unison the refrain of a love song, with a dying fall. A red
flower, flung with a good aim from somewhere in the crowd,
struck the resplendent Capataz on the cheek.
He caught it as it fell, neatly, but for some time did not
turn his head. When at last he condescended to look round,
the throng near him had parted to make way for a pretty
Morenita, her hair held up by a small golden comb, who was
walking towards him in the open space.
Her arms and neck emerged plump and bare from a
snowy chemisette; the blue woollen skirt, with all the full-
ness gathered in front, scanty on the hips and tight across
the back, disclosed the provoking action of her walk. She
came straight on and laid her hand on the mare’s neck with
a timid, coquettish look upwards out of the corner of her
eyes.
‘Querido,’ she murmured, caressingly, ‘why do you pre-
tend not to see me when I pass?’
‘Because I don’t love thee any more,’ said Nostromo, de-
liberately, after a moment of reflective silence.
The hand on the mare’s neck trembled suddenly. She
dropped her head before all the eyes in the wide circle
formed round the generous, the terrible, the inconstant Ca-
pataz de Cargadores, and his Morenita.
Nostromo, looking down, saw tears beginning to fall
down her face.
‘Has it come, then, ever beloved of my heart?’ she whis-
pered. ‘Is it true?’
‘No,’ said Nostromo, looking away carelessly. ‘It was a lie.
I love thee as much as ever.’

1 0 Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard