"Hallo! You are better to-day. Soon be all right," said Ford,
cheerfully, but feeling rather scared.
Almayer let go his arm and stood very straight with his head up and
shoulders thrown back, looking stonily at the multitude of suns shining
in ripples of the river. His jacket and his loose trousers flapped in
the breeze on his thin limbs.
"Let her go!" he whispered in a grating voice. "Let her go. To-morrow I
shall forget. I am a firm man, . . . firm as a . . . rock, . . . firm . . ."
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.
"And they both smoke," added Ali.
"Phew! Opium, you mean?"
Ali nodded, and Ford remained thoughtful; then he muttered to himself,
"Poor devil! The sooner the better now." In the afternoon he walked up
to the house.
"What are you doing here?" he asked of Jim-Eng, whom he found strolling
about on the verandah.
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