Joseph Conrad: Nostromo

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

His heart dilated within him so, when he saw the Goulds on the
deck of the Hermes, that his greetings were reduced to a casual
mutter. Driving back to town, all three were silent. And in the
patio the doctor, in a more natural manner, said--

"I'll leave you now to yourselves. I'll call to-morrow if I may?"

"Come to lunch, dear Dr. Monygham, and come early," said Mrs.
Gould, in her travelling dress and her veil down, turning to look
at him at the foot of the stairs; while at the top of the flight
the Madonna, in blue robes and the Child on her arm, seemed to
welcome her with an aspect of pitying tenderness.

"Don't expect to find me at home," Charles Gould warned him.
"I'll be off early to the mine."

After lunch, Dona Emilia and the senor doctor came slowly through
the inner gateway of the patio. The large gardens of the Casa
Gould, surrounded by high walls, and the red-tile slopes of
neighbouring roofs, lay open before them, with masses of shade
under the trees and level surfaces of sunlight upon the lawns. A
triple row of old orange trees surrounded the whole. Barefooted,
brown gardeners, in snowy white shirts and wide calzoneras,
dotted the grounds, squatting over flowerbeds, passing between
the trees, dragging slender India-rubber tubes across the gravel
of the paths; and the fine jets of water crossed each other in
graceful curves, sparkling in the sunshine with a slight
pattering noise upon the bushes, and an effect of showered
diamonds upon the grass.

Dona Emilia, holding up the train of a clear dress, walked by the
side of Dr. Monygham, in a longish black coat and severe black
bow on an immaculate shirtfront. Under a shady clump of trees,
where stood scattered little tables and wicker easy-chairs, Mrs.
Gould sat down in a low and ample seat.