José María de Pereda,
To the Indies
(1864)
“ The three are walking along without saying a word,—Uncle Nardo with the greatest possible indifference, his wife, as usual, in the depths of sorrow, looking through her tears at the fateful ship which waits for her boy, rocking out there on the waves, a mile from the Mole. As for Andrew, to judge by his determined air and his disdainful smile, we may rest assured he is cherishing a plan for building up on his own hook, when he should come back from America, a suburb as elegant and solid as the one through which they are passing. ”
