Confused by those unusual sensations she stopped in the doorway and
instinctively drew the lower part of the curtain across her face, leaving
only half a rounded cheek, a stray tress, and one eye exposed, wherewith
to contemplate the gorgeous and bold being so unlike in appearance to the
rare specimens of traders she had seen before on that same verandah.

Dain Maroola, dazzled by the unexpected vision, forgot the confused
Almayer, forgot his brig, his escort staring in open-mouthed admiration,
the object of his visit and all things else, in his overpowering desire
to prolong the contemplation of so much loveliness met so suddenly in
such an unlikely place--as he thought.

"It is my daughter," said Almayer, in an embarrassed manner. "It is of
no consequence. White women have their customs, as you know Tuan, having
travelled much, as you say. However, it is late; we will finish our talk
to-morrow."

Dain bent low trying to convey in a last glance towards the girl the bold
expression of his overwhelming admiration. The next minute he was
shaking Almayer's hand with grave courtesy, his face wearing a look of
stolid unconcern as to any feminine presence. His men filed off, and he
followed them quickly, closely attended by a thick-set, savage-looking
Sumatrese he had introduced before as the commander of his brig. Nina
walked to the balustrade of the verandah and saw the sheen of moonlight
on the steel spear-heads and heard the rhythmic jingle of brass anklets
as the men moved in single file towards the jetty. The boat shoved off
after a little while, looming large in the full light of the moon, a
black shapeless mass in the slight haze hanging over the water. Nina
fancied she could distinguish the graceful figure of the trader standing