Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard
that great Costaguana undertaking which is to put money into the pockets of Englishmen, Frenchmen, Americans, Germans, and God knows who else. The silence about me is ominous. There is above the middle part of this house a sort of first floor, with narrow openings like loop-holes for windows, probably used in old times for the better defence against the savages, when the persistent barbarism of our native continent did not wear the black coats of politicians, but went about yelling, half-naked, with bows and arrows in its hands. The woman of the house is dying up there, I believe, all alone with her old husband. There is a narrow staircase, the sort of staircase one man could easily defend against a mob, leading up there, and I have just heard, through the thickness of the wall, the old fellow going down into their kitchen for something or other. It was a sort of noise a mouse might make behind the plaster of a wall. All the servants they had ran away yesterday and have not returned yet, if ever they do. For the rest, there are only two children here, two girls. The father has sent them down-stairs, and they have crept into this cafe", perhaps because I am here. They huddle together in a corner, in each other's arms. I just noticed them a few minutes ago, and I feel more lonely than ever."
Decoud turned half round in his chair, and asked, "Is there any bread here?"
Linda's dark head was shaken negatively in response, above the fair head of her sister nestling on her breast.
"You couldn't get me some bread?" insisted Decoud. The child did not move; he saw her large eyes
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