Page 36 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

Linda raised her eyes to her face for a moment, but old
Giorgio shouted apologetically—
‘She is a little upset.’
Outside Nostromo shouted back with another laugh—
‘She cannot upset me.’
Signora Teresa found her voice.
‘It is what I say. You have no heart—and you have no con-
science, Gian’ Battista—‘
They heard him wheel his horse away from the shut-
ters. The party he led were babbling excitedly in Italian and
Spanish, inciting each other to the pursuit. He put himself
at their head, crying, ‘Avanti!’
‘He has not stopped very long with us. There is no praise
from strangers to be got here,’ Signora Teresa said tragically.
‘Avanti! Yes! That is all he cares for. To be first somewhere—
somehow—to be first with these English. They will be
showing him to everybody. ‘This is our Nostromo!’’ She
laughed ominously. ‘What a name! What is that? Nostro-
mo? He would take a name that is properly no word from
them.’
Meantime Giorgio, with tranquil movements, had been
unfastening the door; the flood of light fell on Signora Te-
resa, with her two girls gathered to her side, a picturesque
woman in a pose of maternal exaltation. Behind her the wall
was dazzlingly white, and the crude colours of the Garibal-
di lithograph paled in the sunshine.
Old Viola, at the door, moved his arm upwards as if refer-
ring all his quick, fleeting thoughts to the picture of his old
chief on the wall. Even when he was cooking for the ‘Signori