Could anything be more appalling? What if that man should take umbrage
at some fancied slight to his honour or disregard of his affections and
suddenly "amok"? The wise adviser would be the first victim, no doubt,
and death would be his reward. And underlying the horror of this
situation there was the danger of those meddlesome fools, the white men.
A vision of comfortless exile in far-off Madura rose up before
Babalatchi. Wouldn't that be worse than death itself? And there was
that half-white woman with threatening eyes. How could he tell what an
incomprehensible creature of that sort would or would not do? She knew
so much that she made the killing of Dain an impossibility. That much
was certain. And yet the sharp, rough-edged kriss is a good and discreet
friend, thought Babalatchi, as he examined his own lovingly, and put it
back in the sheath, with a sigh of regret, before unfastening his canoe.
As he cast off the painter, pushed out into the stream, and took up his
paddle, he realised vividly how unsatisfactory it was to have women mixed
up in state affairs. Young women, of course. For Mrs. Almayer's mature
wisdom, and for the easy aptitude in intrigue that comes with years to
the feminine mind, he felt the most sincere respect.
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