Page 249 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

arm, suggesting annihilation; and Mrs. Gould turned away
her head with a look of horror.
‘Why don’t you say all this to my husband?’ she asked,
without looking at Decoud, who stood watching the effect
of his words.
‘Ah! But Don Carlos is so English,’ he began. Mrs. Gould
interrupted—
‘Leave that alone, Don Martin. He’s as much a Costa-
guanero—No! He’s more of a Costaguanero than yourself.’
‘Sentimentalist, sentimentalist,’ Decoud almost cooed,
in a tone of gentle and soothing deference. ‘Sentimental-
ist, after the amazing manner of your people. I have been
watching El Rey de Sulaco since I came here on a fool’s er-
rand, and perhaps impelled by some treason of fate lurking
behind the unaccountable turns of a man’s life. But I don’t
matter, I am not a sentimentalist, I cannot endow my per-
sonal desires with a shining robe of silk and jewels. Life is
not for me a moral romance derived from the tradition of
a pretty fairy tale. No, Mrs. Gould; I am practical. I am not
afraid of my motives. But, pardon me, I have been rather
carried away. What I wish to say is that I have been observ-
ing. I won’t tell you what I have discovered—‘
‘No. That is unnecessary,’ whispered Mrs. Gould, once
more averting her head.
‘It is. Except one little fact, that your husband does not
like me. It’s a small matter, which, in the circumstances,
seems to acquire a perfectly ridiculous importance. Ridic-
ulous and immense; for, clearly, money is required for my
plan,’ he reflected; then added, meaningly, ‘and we have two

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard