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Updated: June 16, 2025
Almayer's heart gave a great leap. "Dain!" he exclaimed. "At last! at last! I have been waiting for you every day and every night. I had nearly given you up." "Nothing could have stopped me from coming back here," said the other, almost violently. "Not even death," he whispered to himself. "This is a friend's talk, and is very good," said Almayer, heartily. "But you are too far here.
Mahmat took the bangle eagerly and hid it in the folds of his waist-cloth. "Am I a fool to show this thing in a house with three women in it?" he growled. "But I shall tell them about Dain the trader, and there will be talk enough." He turned and went away, increasing his pace as soon as he was outside Almayer's compound. Babalatchi looked after him till he disappeared behind the bushes.
Later, when the enforced confinement grew irksome, Willems took one of Almayer's many canoes and crossed the main branch of the Pantai in search of some solitary spot where he could hide his discouragement and his weariness.
Ford looked at his face and fled. The skipper was a tolerably firm man himself as those who had sailed with him could testify but Almayer's firmness was altogether too much for his fortitude. Next time the steamer called in Sambir Ali came on board early with a grievance. He complained to Ford that Jim-Eng the Chinaman had invaded Almayer's house, and actually had lived there for the last month.
Angry at what Willems had done and also angry at what he had left undone. The scoundrel was not complete. The conception was perfect, but the execution, unaccountably, fell short. Why? He ought to have cut Almayer's throat and burnt the place to ashes then cleared out. Got out of his way; of him, Lingard! Yet he didn't. Was it impudence, contempt or what?
I ask in Captain Lingard's name. I must have it. Matter of life and death." The mate was impressed by Almayer's agitation "You shall have it, sir. . . . Man the gig there! Bear a hand, serang! . . . It's hanging astern, Mr. Almayer," he said, looking down again. "Get into it, sir. The men are coming down by the painter."
He had almost forgotten why he was there, and dreamily he could see all his past life on the smooth and boundless surface that glittered before his eyes. Dain's hand laid on Almayer's shoulder recalled him with a start from some country very far away indeed. He turned round, but his eyes seemed to look rather at the place where Dain stood than at the man himself.
What was there in that being to make a man speak as Dain had spoken, to make him blind to all other faces, deaf to all other voices? She left the crowd by the riverside, and wandered aimlessly among the empty houses, resisting the impulse that pushed her towards Almayer's campong to seek there in Nina's eyes the secret of her own misery.
The cover was off, with no one near by, and the whole of my crew just missed going heels over head into that beastly hole. Jurumudi Itam, our best quartermaster, deft at fine needlework, he who mended the ship's flags and sewed buttons on our coats, was disabled by a kick on the shoulder. Both remorse and gratitude seemed foreign to Almayer's character.
In the midst of his gentle and slow progress he fancied suddenly he had heard his wife's voice in the thickest of the throng. He could not mistake very well Mrs. Almayer's high-pitched tones, yet the words were too indistinct for him to understand their purport.
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