Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard
Señor Mitchell? You may depart to your affairs. You are beneath my notice. My attention is claimed by matters of the very highest importance."
Captain Mitchell was very nearly provoked to an answer. It displeased him to be liberated insultingly; but want of sleep, prolonged anxieties, a profound appointment with the fatal ending of the silver-saving business weighed upon his spirits. It was as much as he could do to conceal his uneasiness, not about himself, perhaps, but about things in general. It occurred to him distinctly that something underhand was going on. As he went out he ignored the doctor pointedly.
"A brute," said Sotillo, as the door shut.
Dr. Monygham slipped off the window-sill, and, thrusting his hands into the pockets of the long, gray dust-coat he was wearing, made a few steps into the room.
Sotillo got up, too, and, putting himself in the way, examined him from head to foot.
"So your countrymen do not confide in you very much, Señor Doctor? They do not love you? Eh? Why is that, I wonder?"
The doctor, lifting his head, answered by a long, lifeless stare and the words, "Perhaps because I have lived too long in Costaguana."
Sotillo had a gleam of white teeth under the black mustache.
"Aha! But you love yourself," he said, encouragingly.
"If you leave them alone," the doctor said, looking with the same lifeless stare at Sotillo's handsome face,
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