Nostromo

Nostromo said nothing, and the sick woman with an upward glance insisted.

Nostromo, as if affected by the gloom around, seemed nervously resentful.

Hirsch, when ordered forward by Nostromo, had not returned into his first hiding-place.

Nostromo's nervous impatience passed into gloomy thoughtfulness.

Nostromo hoisted the sail, flew back to the tiller, pulled at the sheet like mad.