Standing
above her, Nostromo did not see the distorted features of her face,
distorted by a paroxysm of pain and anger. Only she began to tremble all
over. Her bowed head shook. The broad shoulders quivered.
"Then God, perhaps, will have mercy upon me! But do you look to it, man,
that you get something for yourself out of it, besides the remorse that
shall overtake you some day."
She laughed feebly. "Get riches at least for once, you indispensable,
admired Gian' Battista, to whom the peace of a dying woman is less
than the praise of people who have given you a silly name--and nothing
besides--in exchange for your soul and body."
The Capataz de Cargadores swore to himself under his breath.
"Leave my soul alone, Padrona, and I shall know how to take care of
my body. Where is the harm of people having need of me? What are you
envying me that I have robbed you and the children of? Those very people
you are throwing in my teeth have done more for old Giorgio than they
ever thought of doing for me."
He struck his breast with his open palm; his voice had remained low
though he had spoken in a forcible tone.
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