Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART THIRD: THE LIGHTHOUSE 11. CHAPTER ELEVEN (continued)

"Don't go yet," she said to Dr. Monygham, who was unable to tear
himself away from the spot. His chin nestling within the points
of his collar, he devoured her stealthily with his eyes, which,
luckily, were round and hard like clouded marbles, and incapable
of disclosing his sentiments. His pitying emotion at the marks of
time upon the face of that woman, the air of frailty and weary
fatigue that had settled upon the eyes and temples of the
"Never-tired Senora" (as Don Pepe years ago used to call her with
admiration), touched him almost to tears. "Don't go yet. To-day
is all my own," Mrs. Gould urged, gently. "We are not back yet
officially. No one will come. It's only to-morrow that the
windows of the Casa Gould are to be lit up for a reception."

The doctor dropped into a chair.

"Giving a tertulia?" he said, with a detached air.

"A simple greeting for all the kind friends who care to come."

"And only to-morrow?"

"Yes. Charles would be tired out after a day at the mine, and so
I----It would be good to have him to myself for one evening on
our return to this house I love. It has seen all my life."

"Ah, yes!" snarled the doctor, suddenly. "Women count time from
the marriage feast. Didn't you live a little before?"

"Yes; but what is there to remember? There were no cares."

Mrs. Gould sighed. And as two friends, after a long separation,
will revert to the most agitated period of their lives, they
began to talk of the Sulaco Revolution. It seemed strange to
Mrs. Gould that people who had taken part in it seemed to forget
its memory and its lesson.