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- Джозеф Конрад
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"
There
is
no
shame
for
thee
in
getting
nothing
from
thy
lover
for
once
.
"
"
True
!
The
shame
is
your
worship
's
--
my
poor
lover
's
,
"
she
flared
up
,
sarcastically
.
Laughs
were
heard
at
her
anger
,
at
her
retort
.
What
an
audacious
spitfire
she
was
!
The
people
aware
of
this
scene
were
calling
out
urgently
to
others
in
the
crowd
.
The
circle
round
the
silver-grey
mare
narrowed
slowly
.
The
girl
went
off
a
pace
or
two
,
confronting
the
mocking
curiosity
of
the
eyes
,
then
flung
back
to
the
stirrup
,
tiptoeing
,
her
enraged
face
turned
up
to
Nostromo
with
a
pair
of
blazing
eyes
.
He
bent
low
to
her
in
the
saddle
.
"
Juan
,
"
she
hissed
,
"
I
could
stab
thee
to
the
heart
!
"
The
dreaded
Capataz
de
Cargadores
,
magnificent
and
carelessly
public
in
his
amours
,
flung
his
arm
round
her
neck
and
kissed
her
spluttering
lips
.
A
murmur
went
round
.
"
A
knife
!
"
he
demanded
at
large
,
holding
her
firmly
by
the
shoulder
.
Twenty
blades
flashed
out
together
in
the
circle
.
A
young
man
in
holiday
attire
,
bounding
in
,
thrust
one
in
Nostromo
's
hand
and
bounded
back
into
the
ranks
,
very
proud
of
himself
.
Nostromo
had
not
even
looked
at
him
.
"
Stand
on
my
foot
,
"
he
commanded
the
girl
,
who
,
suddenly
subdued
,
rose
lightly
,
and
when
he
had
her
up
,
encircling
her
waist
,
her
face
near
to
his
,
he
pressed
the
knife
into
her
little
hand
.
