jadeantes.
“—¿Comprendes esto? —le pregunté."
—Siguió mirando más allá de mí con ojos ardientes y llenos de anhelo, con una expresión mixta de melancolía y odio. No respondió, pero vi una sonrisa, una sonrisa de significado indefinible, aparecer en sus labios incoloros que un momento después se contrajeron convulsivamente.
—¿Acaso no lo hago? —dijo lentamente, jadeando, como si las palabras le hubieran sido arrancadas por una fuerza sobrenatural.
“I pulled the string of the whistle, and I did this because I saw the pilgrims on deck getting out their rifles with an air of anticipating a jolly lark. At the sudden screech there was a movement of abject terror through that wedged mass of bodies.
‘Don’t! don’t you frighten them away,’ cried someone on deck disconsolately.
I pulled the string time after time. They broke and ran, they leaped, they crouched, they swerved, they dodged the flying terror of the sound. The three red chaps had fallen flat, face down on the shore, as though they had been shot dead. Only the barbarous and superb woman did not so much as flinch, and stretched tragically her bare arms after us over the sombre and glittering river.