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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Стр. 10/274
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And
while
she
looked
at
him
she
would
sometimes
put
her
hand
hastily
to
her
side
with
a
short
twitch
of
her
fine
lips
and
a
knitting
of
her
black
,
straight
eyebrows
like
a
flicker
of
angry
pain
or
an
angry
thought
on
her
handsome
,
regular
features
.
It
was
pain
;
she
suppressed
the
twinge
.
It
had
come
to
her
first
a
few
years
after
they
had
left
Italy
to
emigrate
to
America
and
settle
at
last
in
Sulaco
after
wandering
from
town
to
town
,
trying
shopkeeping
in
a
small
way
here
and
there
;
and
once
an
organized
enterprise
of
fishing
--
in
Maldonado
--
for
Giorgio
,
like
the
great
Garibaldi
,
had
been
a
sailor
in
his
time
.
Sometimes
she
had
no
patience
with
pain
.
For
years
its
gnawing
had
been
part
of
the
landscape
embracing
the
glitter
of
the
harbour
under
the
wooded
spurs
of
the
range
;
and
the
sunshine
itself
was
heavy
and
dull
--
heavy
with
pain
--
not
like
the
sunshine
of
her
girlhood
,
in
which
middle-aged
Giorgio
had
wooed
her
gravely
and
passionately
on
the
shores
of
the
gulf
of
Spezzia
.
"
You
go
in
at
once
,
Giorgio
,
"
she
directed
.
"
One
would
think
you
do
not
wish
to
have
any
pity
on
me
--
with
four
Signori
Inglesi
staying
in
the
house
.
"
"
Va
bene
,
va
bene
,
"
Giorgio
would
mutter
.
He
obeyed
.
The
Signori
Inglesi
would
require
their
midday
meal
presently
.
He
had
been
one
of
the
immortal
and
invincible
band
of
liberators
who
had
made
the
mercenaries
of
tyranny
fly
like
chaff
before
a
hurricane
,
"
un
uragano
terribile
.
"
But
that
was
before
he
was
married
and
had
children
;
and
before
tyranny
had
reared
its
head
again
amongst
the
traitors
who
had
imprisoned
Garibaldi
,
his
hero
.
There
were
three
doors
in
the
front
of
the
house
,
and
each
afternoon
the
Garibaldino
could
be
seen
at
one
or
another
of
them
with
his
big
bush
of
white
hair
,
his
arms
folded
,
his
legs
crossed
,
leaning
back
his
leonine
head
against
the
side
,
and
looking
up
the
wooded
slopes
of
the
foothills
at
the
snowy
dome
of
Higuerota
.
The
front
of
his
house
threw
off
a
black
long
rectangle
of
shade
,
broadening
slowly
over
the
soft
ox-cart
track
.
Through
the
gaps
,
chopped
out
in
the
oleander
hedges
,
the
harbour
branch
railway
,
laid
out
temporarily
on
the
level
of
the
plain
,
curved
away
its
shining
parallel
ribbons
on
a
belt
of
scorched
and
withered
grass
within
sixty
yards
of
the
end
of
the
house
.
In
the
evening
the
empty
material
trains
of
flat
cars
circled
round
the
dark
green
grove
of
Sulaco
,
and
ran
,
undulating
slightly
with
white
jets
of
steam
,
over
the
plain
towards
the
Casa
Viola
,
on
their
way
to
the
railway
yards
by
the
harbour
.
The
Italian
drivers
saluted
him
from
the
foot-plate
with
raised
hand
,
while
the
negro
brakesmen
sat
carelessly
on
the
brakes
,
looking
straight
forward
,
with
the
rims
of
their
big
hats
flapping
in
the
wind
.
In
return
Giorgio
would
give
a
slight
sideways
jerk
of
the
head
,
without
unfolding
his
arms
.
On
this
memorable
day
of
the
riot
his
arms
were
not
folded
on
his
chest
.
His
hand
grasped
the
barrel
of
the
gun
grounded
on
the
threshold
;
he
did
not
look
up
once
at
the
white
dome
of
Higuerota
,
whose
cool
purity
seemed
to
hold
itself
aloof
from
a
hot
earth
.
His
eyes
examined
the
plain
curiously
.
Tall
trails
of
dust
subsided
here
and
there
.
In
a
speckless
sky
the
sun
hung
clear
and
blinding
.
Knots
of
men
ran
headlong
;
others
made
a
stand
;
and
the
irregular
rattle
of
firearms
came
rippling
to
his
ears
in
the
fiery
,
still
air
.
Single
figures
on
foot
raced
desperately
.
Horsemen
galloped
towards
each
other
,
wheeled
round
together
,
separated
at
speed
.
Giorgio
saw
one
fall
,
rider
and
horse
disappearing
as
if
they
had
galloped
into
a
chasm
,
and
the
movements
of
the
animated
scene
were
like
the
passages
of
a
violent
game
played
upon
the
plain
by
dwarfs
mounted
and
on
foot
,
yelling
with
tiny
throats
,
under
the
mountain
that
seemed
a
colossal
embodiment
of
silence
.
Never
before
had
Giorgio
seen
this
bit
of
plain
so
full
of
active
life
;
his
gaze
could
not
take
in
all
its
details
at
once
;
he
shaded
his
eyes
with
his
hand
,
till
suddenly
the
thundering
of
many
hoofs
near
by
startled
him
.
A
troop
of
horses
had
broken
out
of
the
fenced
paddock
of
the
Railway
Company
.
They
came
on
like
a
whirlwind
,
and
dashed
over
the
line
snorting
,
kicking
,
squealing
in
a
compact
,
piebald
,
tossing
mob
of
bay
,
brown
,
grey
backs
,
eyes
staring
,
necks
extended
,
nostrils
red
,
long
tails
streaming
.
As
soon
as
they
had
leaped
upon
the
road
the
thick
dust
flew
upwards
from
under
their
hoofs
,
and
within
six
yards
of
Giorgio
only
a
brown
cloud
with
vague
forms
of
necks
and
cruppers
rolled
by
,
making
the
soil
tremble
on
its
passage
.
