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have been something in me worthy to command that man’s half-bitter f5552idelity, he would utter the usual exordium of his remorseless5552 wisdom: “Vous aut5552res gentilhommes!” in a caust, his half-ironic devotion. Many of Nostromo’s speeches I have heard first in Dominic’s voice. His hand on the tiller and his fearless eyes roaming the horizon from within the monkish hood shadowing his face, after all, satisfaction to think that in my very young days there must,