Page 529 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

tablishment, with its crowds of clerks, an office in town, the
old office in the harbour, the division into departments—
passenger, cargo, lighterage, and so on—secured a greater
leisure for his last years in the regenerated Sulaco, the capi-
tal of the Occidental Republic. Liked by the natives for his
good nature and the formality of his manner, self-impor-
tant and simple, known for years as a ‘friend of our country,’
he felt himself a personality of mark in the town. Getting up
early for a turn in the market-place while the gigantic shad-
ow of Higuerota was still lying upon the fruit and flower
stalls piled up with masses of gorgeous colouring, attending
easily to current affairs, welcomed in houses, greeted by la-
dies on the Alameda, with his entry into all the clubs and a
footing in the Casa Gould, he led his privileged old bachelor,
man-about-town existence with great comfort and solem-
nity. But on mail-boat days he was down at the Harbour
Office at an early hour, with his own gig, manned by a smart
crew in white and blue, ready to dash off and board the ship
directly she showed her bows between the harbour heads.
It would be into the Harbour Office that he would lead
some privileged passenger he had brought off in his own
boat, and invite him to take a seat for a moment while he
signed a few papers. And Captain Mitchell, seating himself
at his desk, would keep on talking hospitably—
‘There isn’t much time if you are to see everything in a
day. We shall be off in a moment. We’ll have lunch at the
Amarilla Club—though I belong also to the Anglo-Amer-
ican—mining engineers and business men, don’t you
know—and to the Mirliflores as well, a new club—Eng-

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard