Its big smooth trunk leaned like
a falling column far over the trickle of water running amongst the loose
stones.
A couple of years before Nostromo had spent a whole Sunday, all alone,
exploring the island. He explained this to Decoud after their task was
done, and they sat, weary in every limb, with their legs hanging down
the low bank, and their backs against the tree, like a pair of blind
men aware of each other and their surroundings by some indefinable sixth
sense.
"Yes," Nostromo repeated, "I never forget a place I have carefully
looked at once." He spoke slowly, almost lazily, as if there had been a
whole leisurely life before him, instead of the scanty two hours before
daylight. The existence of the treasure, barely concealed in this
improbable spot, laid a burden of secrecy upon every contemplated step,
upon every intention and plan of future conduct. He felt the partial
failure of this desperate affair entrusted to the great reputation
he had known how to make for himself. However, it was also a partial
success. His vanity was half appeased.
Pages:
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455