Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard
But already there was something of mockery in Decoud's suppressed excitement.
"What would you expect a true Costaguanero to do? Another revolution, of course. On my word of honor, Mrs. Gould, I believe I am a true hijo del pays, a true son of the country, whatever Father Corbelan may say. And I'm not so much of an unbeliever as not to have faith in my own ideas, in my own remedies, in my own desires."
"Yes," said Mrs. Gould, doubtfully.
"You don't seem convinced," Decoud went on again in French. "Say, then, in my passions."
Mrs. Gould received this addition unflinchingly. To understand it thoroughly she did not require to hear his muttered assurance.
"There is nothing I would not do for the sake of Antonia. There is nothing I am not prepared to undertake. There is no risk I am not ready to run."
Decoud seemed to find a fresh audacity in this voicing of his thought. "You would not believe me if I were to say that it is the love of the country which—"
She made a sort of discouraged protest with her arm, as if to express that she had given up expecting that motive from any one.
"A Sulaco revolution," Decoud pursued in a forcible undertone. "The Great Cause may be served here, on the very spot of its inception, in the place of its birth, Mrs. Gould."
Frowning, and biting her lower lip thoughtfully, she made a step away from the door.
"You are not going to speak to your husband?" Decoud arrested her anxiously.
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