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t in Dominic’s voice. His hand on the tiller and his fearless eyes roaming the horizon from within thWWW.ddwyt.COMe monkish hWWW.ddwyt.COMood shadowingWWW.ddwyt.COM his face, he would utter the usual exordium of his remorseless wisdom: “Vous autres gentilhommes!” in a caustic tone that hangs on my ear yet. Like Nostromo! “You hombres finos!” Very much like Nostromo. But Dominic the Corsican nursed a certain pride of ancestry from which my Nostromo is free; for Nostromo’s lineage had to be mo,