Page 530 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

lish, French, Italians, all sorts—lively young fellows mostly,
who wanted to pay a compliment to an old resident, sir. But
we’ll lunch at the Amarilla. Interest you, I fancy. Real thing
of the country. Men of the first families. The President of
the Occidental Republic himself belongs to it, sir. Fine old
bishop with a broken nose in the patio. Remarkable piece of
statuary, I believe. Cavaliere Parrochetti—you know Par-
rochetti, the famous Italian sculptor—was working here for
two years—thought very highly of our old bishop…. There!
I am very much at your service now.’
Proud of his experience, penetrated by the sense of his-
torical importance of men, events, and buildings, he talked
pompously in jerky periods, with slight sweeps of his short,
thick arm, letting nothing ‘escape the attention’ of his privi-
leged captive.
‘Lot of building going on, as you observe. Before the Sep-
aration it was a plain of burnt grass smothered in clouds
of dust, with an ox-cart track to our Jetty. Nothing more.
This is the Harbour Gate. Picturesque, is it not? Former-
ly the town stopped short there. We enter now the Calle
de la Constitucion. Observe the old Spanish houses. Great
dignity. Eh? I suppose it’s just as it was in the time of the
Viceroys, except for the pavement. Wood blocks now. Su-
laco National Bank there, with the sentry boxes each side of
the gate. Casa Avellanos this side, with all the ground-floor
windows shuttered. A wonderful woman lives there—Miss
Avellanos—the beautiful Antonia. A character, sir! A his-
torical woman! Opposite—Casa Gould. Noble gateway. Yes,
the Goulds of the original Gould Concession, that all the