Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

PART FIRST: THE SILVER OF THE MINE 6. CHAPTER SIX (continued)

On seeing Charles Gould step into the sala he would nod
provisionally and go on to the end of the oratorial period. Only
then he would say--

"Carlos, my friend, you have ridden from San Tome in the heat of
the day. Always the true English activity. No? What?"

He drank up all the tea at once in one draught. This performance
was invariably followed by a slight shudder and a low,
involuntary "br-r-r-r," which was not covered by the hasty
exclamation, "Excellent!"

Then giving up the empty cup into his young friend's hand,
extended with a smile, he continued to expatiate upon the
patriotic nature of the San Tome mine for the simple pleasure of
talking fluently, it seemed, while his reclining body jerked
backwards and forwards in a rocking-chair of the sort exported
from the United States. The ceiling of the largest drawing-room
of the Casa Gould extended its white level far above his head.
The loftiness dwarfed the mixture of heavy, straight-backed
Spanish chairs of brown wood with leathern seats, and European
furniture, low, and cushioned all over, like squat little
monsters gorged to bursting with steel springs and horsehair.
There were knick-knacks on little tables, mirrors let into the
wall above marble consoles, square spaces of carpet under the two
groups of armchairs, each presided over by a deep sofa; smaller
rugs scattered all over the floor of red tiles; three windows
from the ceiling down to the ground, opening on a balcony, and
flanked by the perpendicular folds of the dark hangings. The
stateliness of ancient days lingered between the four high,
smooth walls, tinted a delicate primrose-colour; and Mrs. Gould,
with her little head and shining coils of hair, sitting in a
cloud of muslin and lace before a slender mahogany table,
resembled a fairy posed lightly before dainty philtres dispensed
out of vessels of silver and porcelain.