Page 584 - nostromo-a-tale-of-the-seaboard

qualities was destroyed. He felt it himself, and often cursed
the silver of San Tome. His courage, his magnificence, his
leisure, his work, everything was as before, only everything
was a sham. But the treasure was real. He clung to it with
a more tenacious, mental grip. But he hated the feel of the
ingots. Sometimes, after putting away a couple of them in
his cabin—the fruit of a secret night expedition to the Great
Isabel—he would look fixedly at his fingers, as if surprised
they had left no stain on his skin.
He had found means of disposing of the silver bars in dis-
tant ports. The necessity to go far afield made his coasting
voyages long, and caused his visits to the Viola household
to be rare and far between. He was fated to have his wife
from there. He had said so once to Giorgio himself. But the
Garibaldino had put the subject aside with a majestic wave
of his hand, clutching a smouldering black briar-root pipe.
There was plenty of time; he was not the man to force his
girls upon anybody.
As time went on, Nostromo discovered his preference for
the younger of the two. They had some profound similar-
ities of nature, which must exist for complete confidence
and understanding, no matter what outward differences of
temperament there may be to exercise their own fascina-
tion of contrast. His wife would have to know his secret or
else life would be impossible. He was attracted by Giselle,
with her candid gaze and white throat, pliable, silent, fond
of excitement under her quiet indolence; whereas Linda,
with her intense, passionately pale face, energetic, all fire
and words, touched with gloom and scorn, a chip of the