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- Джозеф Конрад
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Come
to-morrow
.
Come
and
tell
her
,
so
that
I
may
have
some
peace
from
her
scolding
and
--
perhaps
--
who
knows
...
"
"
Be
allowed
to
listen
to
your
Ramirez
,
eh
?
Is
that
it
?
You
...
"
"
Mercy
of
God
!
How
violent
you
are
,
Giovanni
,
"
she
said
,
unmoved
.
"
Who
is
Ramirez
...
Ramirez
...
Who
is
he
?
"
she
repeated
,
dreamily
,
in
the
dusk
and
gloom
of
the
clouded
gulf
,
with
a
low
red
streak
in
the
west
like
a
hot
bar
of
glowing
iron
laid
across
the
entrance
of
a
world
sombre
as
a
cavern
,
where
the
magnificent
Capataz
de
Cargadores
had
hidden
his
conquests
of
love
and
wealth
.
"
Listen
,
Giselle
,
"
he
said
,
in
measured
tones
;
"
I
will
tell
no
word
of
love
to
your
sister
.
Do
you
want
to
know
why
?
"
"
Alas
!
I
could
not
understand
perhaps
,
Giovanni
.
Father
says
you
are
not
like
other
men
;
that
no
one
had
ever
understood
you
properly
;
that
the
rich
will
be
surprised
yet
...
Oh
!
saints
in
heaven
!
I
am
weary
.
"
She
raised
her
embroidery
to
conceal
the
lower
part
of
her
face
,
then
let
it
fall
on
her
lap
.
The
lantern
was
shaded
on
the
land
side
,
but
slanting
away
from
the
dark
column
of
the
lighthouse
they
could
see
the
long
shaft
of
light
,
kindled
by
Linda
,
go
out
to
strike
the
expiring
glow
in
a
horizon
of
purple
and
red
.
Giselle
Viola
,
with
her
head
resting
against
the
wall
of
the
house
,
her
eyes
half
closed
,
and
her
little
feet
,
in
white
stockings
and
black
slippers
,
crossed
over
each
other
,
seemed
to
surrender
herself
,
tranquil
and
fatal
,
to
the
gathering
dusk
.
The
charm
of
her
body
,
the
promising
mysteriousness
of
her
indolence
,
went
out
into
the
night
of
the
Placid
Gulf
like
a
fresh
and
intoxicating
fragrance
spreading
out
in
the
shadows
,
impregnating
the
air
.
The
incorruptible
Nostromo
breathed
her
ambient
seduction
in
the
tumultuous
heaving
of
his
breast
.
Before
leaving
the
harbour
he
had
thrown
off
the
store
clothing
of
Captain
Fidanza
,
for
greater
ease
in
the
long
pull
out
to
the
islands
.
He
stood
before
her
in
the
red
sash
and
check
shirt
as
he
used
to
appear
on
the
Company
's
wharf
--
a
Mediterranean
sailor
come
ashore
to
try
his
luck
in
Costaguana
.
The
dusk
of
purple
and
red
enveloped
him
,
too
--
close
,
soft
,
profound
,
as
no
more
than
fifty
yards
from
that
spot
it
had
gathered
evening
after
evening
about
the
self-destructive
passion
of
Don
Martin
Decoud
's
utter
scepticism
,
flaming
up
to
death
in
solitude
.
"
You
have
got
to
hear
,
"
he
began
at
last
,
with
perfect
self-control
.
"
I
shall
say
no
word
of
love
to
your
sister
,
to
whom
I
am
betrothed
from
this
evening
,
because
it
is
you
that
I
love
.
It
is
you
!
"
...
The
dusk
let
him
see
yet
the
tender
and
voluptuous
smile
that
came
instinctively
upon
her
lips
shaped
for
love
and
kisses
,
freeze
hard
in
the
drawn
,
haggard
lines
of
terror
.
He
could
not
restrain
himself
any
longer
.
While
she
shrank
from
his
approach
,
her
arms
went
out
to
him
,
abandoned
and
regal
in
the
dignity
of
her
languid
surrender
.
He
held
her
head
in
his
two
hands
,
and
showered
rapid
kisses
upon
the
upturned
face
that
gleamed
in
the
purple
dusk
.
Masterful
and
tender
,
he
was
entering
slowly
upon
the
fulness
of
his
possession
.
And
he
perceived
that
she
was
crying
.
Then
the
incomparable
Capataz
,
the
man
of
careless
loves
,
became
gentle
and
caressing
,
like
a
woman
to
the
grief
of
a
child
.
He
murmured
to
her
fondly
.
He
sat
down
by
her
and
nursed
her
fair
head
on
his
breast
.
He
called
her
his
star
and
his
little
flower
.
