-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джозеф Конрад
-
- Ностромо
-
- Стр. 76/274
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
paused
,
then
muttered
almost
inaudibly
,
"
That
can
lead
one
very
far
,
though
.
"
Behind
their
backs
the
political
tide
that
once
in
every
twenty-four
hours
set
with
a
strong
flood
through
the
Gould
drawing-room
could
be
heard
,
rising
higher
in
a
hum
of
voices
.
Men
had
been
dropping
in
singly
,
or
in
twos
and
threes
:
the
higher
officials
of
the
province
,
engineers
of
the
railway
,
sunburnt
and
in
tweeds
,
with
the
frosted
head
of
their
chief
smiling
with
slow
,
humorous
indulgence
amongst
the
young
eager
faces
.
Scarfe
,
the
lover
of
fandangos
,
had
already
slipped
out
in
search
of
some
dance
,
no
matter
where
,
on
the
outskirts
of
the
town
.
Don
Juste
Lopez
,
after
taking
his
daughters
home
,
had
entered
solemnly
,
in
a
black
creased
coat
buttoned
up
under
his
spreading
brown
beard
.
The
few
members
of
the
Provincial
Assembly
present
clustered
at
once
around
their
President
to
discuss
the
news
of
the
war
and
the
last
proclamation
of
the
rebel
Montero
,
the
miserable
Montero
,
calling
in
the
name
of
"
a
justly
incensed
democracy
"
upon
all
the
Provincial
Assemblies
of
the
Republic
to
suspend
their
sittings
till
his
sword
had
made
peace
and
the
will
of
the
people
could
be
consulted
.
It
was
practically
an
invitation
to
dissolve
:
an
unheard-of
audacity
of
that
evil
madman
.
The
indignation
ran
high
in
the
knot
of
deputies
behind
Jose
Avellanos
.
Don
Jose
,
lifting
up
his
voice
,
cried
out
to
them
over
the
high
back
of
his
chair
,
"
Sulaco
has
answered
by
sending
to-day
an
army
upon
his
flank
.
If
all
the
other
provinces
show
only
half
as
much
patriotism
as
we
Occidentals
--
"
A
great
outburst
of
acclamations
covered
the
vibrating
treble
of
the
life
and
soul
of
the
party
.
Yes
!
Yes
!
This
was
true
!
A
great
truth
!
Sulaco
was
in
the
forefront
,
as
ever
!
It
was
a
boastful
tumult
,
the
hopefulness
inspired
by
the
event
of
the
day
breaking
out
amongst
those
caballeros
of
the
Campo
thinking
of
their
herds
,
of
their
lands
,
of
the
safety
of
their
families
.
Everything
was
at
stake
...
No
!
It
was
impossible
that
Montero
should
succeed
!
This
criminal
,
this
shameless
Indio
!
The
clamour
continued
for
some
time
,
everybody
else
in
the
room
looking
towards
the
group
where
Don
Juste
had
put
on
his
air
of
impartial
solemnity
as
if
presiding
at
a
sitting
of
the
Provincial
Assembly
.
Decoud
had
turned
round
at
the
noise
,
and
,
leaning
his
back
on
the
balustrade
,
shouted
into
the
room
with
all
the
strength
of
his
lungs
,
"
Gran
'
bestia
!
"
This
unexpected
cry
had
the
effect
of
stilling
the
noise
.
All
the
eyes
were
directed
to
the
window
with
an
approving
expectation
;
but
Decoud
had
already
turned
his
back
upon
the
room
,
and
was
again
leaning
out
over
the
quiet
street
.
"
This
is
the
quintessence
of
my
journalism
;
that
is
the
supreme
argument
,
"
he
said
to
Antonia
.
"
I
have
invented
this
definition
,
this
last
word
on
a
great
question
.
But
I
am
no
patriot
.
I
am
no
more
of
a
patriot
than
the
Capataz
of
the
Sulaco
Cargadores
,
this
Genoese
who
has
done
such
great
things
for
this
harbour
--
this
active
usher-in
of
the
material
implements
for
our
progress
.
You
have
heard
Captain
Mitchell
confess
over
and
over
again
that
till
he
got
this
man
he
could
never
tell
how
long
it
would
take
to
unload
a
ship
.
That
is
bad
for
progress
.
You
have
seen
him
pass
by
after
his
labours
on
his
famous
horse
to
dazzle
the
girls
in
some
ballroom
with
an
earthen
floor
.
He
is
a
fortunate
fellow
!
His
work
is
an
exercise
of
personal
powers
;
his
leisure
is
spent
in
receiving
the
marks
of
extraordinary
adulation
.
And
he
likes
it
,
too
.
Can
anybody
be
more
fortunate
?
To
be
feared
and
admired
is
--
"
"
And
are
these
your
highest
aspirations
,
Don
Martin
?
"
interrupted
Antonia
.
"
I
was
speaking
of
a
man
of
that
sort
,
"
said
Decoud
,
curtly
.
"
The
heroes
of
the
world
have
been
feared
and
admired
.
What
more
could
he
want
?
"
Decoud
had
often
felt
his
familiar
habit
of
ironic
thought
fall
shattered
against
Antonia
's
gravity
.
She
irritated
him
as
if
she
,
too
,
had
suffered
from
that
inexplicable
feminine
obtuseness
which
stands
so
often
between
a
man
and
a
woman
of
the
more
ordinary
sort
.
But
he
overcame
his
vexation
at
once
.
He
was
very
far
from
thinking
Antonia
ordinary
,
whatever
verdict
his
scepticism
might
have
pronounced
upon
himself
.
