and
definite--not to forgive her; only one vivid desire--to forget her. And
this must be made clear to her--and to himself--by frequent repetition.
That was his idea of his duty to himself--to his race--to his respectable
connections; to the whole universe unsettled and shaken by this frightful
catastrophe of his life. He saw it clearly and believed he was a strong
man. He had always prided himself upon his unflinching firmness. And
yet he was afraid. She had been all in all to him. What if he should
let the memory of his love for her weaken the sense of his dignity? She
was a remarkable woman; he could see that; all the latent greatness of
his nature--in which he honestly believed--had been transfused into that
slight, girlish figure. Great things could be done! What if he should
suddenly take her to his heart, forget his shame, and pain, and anger,
and--follow her! What if he changed his heart if not his skin and made
her life easier between the two loves that would guard her from any
mischance! His heart yearned for her. What if he should say that his
love for her was greater than . . .

"I will never forgive you, Nina!" he shouted, leaping up madly in the
sudden fear of his dream.

This was the last time in his life that he was heard to raise his voice.
Henceforth he spoke always in a monotonous whisper like an instrument of
which all the strings but one are broken in a last ringing clamour under
a heavy blow.

She rose to her feet and looked at him. The very violence of his cry
soothed her in an intuitive conviction of his love, and she hugged to her
breast the lamentable remnants of that affection with the unscrupulous
greediness of women who cling desperately to the very scraps and rags of
love, any kind of love, as a thing that of right belongs to them and is
the very breath of their life. She put both her hands on Almayer's
shoulders, and looking at him half tenderly, half playfully, she said--

"You speak so because you love me."

Almayer shook his head.

"Yes, you do," she insisted softly; then after a short pause she added,
"and you will never forget me."

Almayer shivered slightly. She could not have said a more cruel thing.

"Here is the boat coming now," said Dain, his arm outstretched towards a
black speck on the water between the coast and the islet.

They all looked at it and remained standing in silence till the little
canoe came gently on the beach and a man landed and walked