him awful. She would never change! This
manifestation of her sense of proprieties was another sign of their
hopeless diversity; something like another step downwards for him. She
was too different from him. He was so civilized! It struck him suddenly
that they had nothing in common--not a thought, not a feeling; he could
not make clear to her the simplest motive of any act of his . . . and he
could not live without her.

The courageous man who stood facing Babalatchi gasped unexpectedly with
a gasp that was half a groan. This little matter of her veiling
herself against his wish acted upon him like a disclosure of some
great disaster. It increased his contempt for himself as the slave of
a passion he had always derided, as the man unable to assert his will.
This will, all his sensations, his personality--all this seemed to be
lost in the abominable desire, in the priceless promise of that woman.
He was not, of course, able to discern clearly the causes of his misery;
but there are none so ignorant as not to know suffering, none so simple
as not to feel and suffer from the shock of warring impulses. The
ignorant must feel and suffer from their complexity as well as the
wisest; but to them the pain of struggle and defeat appears strange,
mysterious, remediable and unjust. He stood watching her, watching
himself. He tingled with rage from head to foot, as if he had been
struck in the face. Suddenly he laughed; but his laugh was like a
distorted echo of some insincere mirth very far away.

From the other side of the fire Babalatchi spoke hurriedly--

"Here is Tuan Abdulla."

CHAPTER FIVE

Directly on stepping outside Omar's hut Abdulla caught sight of Willems.
He expected, of course, to see a white man, but not that white man, whom
he knew so well. Everybody who traded in the islands, and who had any
dealings with Hudig, knew Willems. For the last two years of his stay in
Macassar the confidential clerk had been managing all the local trade
of the house under a very slight supervision only on the part of the
master. So everybody knew Willems, Abdulla amongst others--but he was
ignorant of Willems' disgrace. As a matter of fact the thing had been
kept very quiet--so quiet that a good many people in Macassar were
expecting Willems' return there, supposing him to be absent on some
confidential mission. Abdulla, in his surprise, hesitated on the
threshold. He had prepared himself to see some seaman--some old officer