tops lit up the usual scene of daily activity. Nina walking on the path
that formed the only street in the settlement saw the accustomed sight of
men lolling on the shady side of the houses, on the high platforms; of
women busily engaged in husking the daily rice; of naked brown children
racing along the shady and narrow paths leading to the clearings. Jim-
Eng, strolling before his house, greeted her with a friendly nod before
climbing up indoors to seek his beloved opium pipe. The elder children
clustered round her, daring from long acquaintance, pulling the skirts of
her white robe with their dark fingers, and showing their brilliant teeth
in expectation of a shower of glass beads. She greeted them with a quiet
smile, but always had a few friendly words for a Siamese girl, a slave
owned by Bulangi, whose numerous wives were said to be of a violent
temper. Well-founded rumour said also that the domestic squabbles of
that industrious cultivator ended generally in a combined assault of all
his wives upon the Siamese slave. The girl herself never
complained--perhaps from dictates of prudence, but more likely through
the strange, resigned apathy of half-savage womankind. From early
morning she was to be seen on the paths amongst the houses--by the
riverside or on the jetties, the tray of pastry, it was her mission to
sell, skilfully balanced on her head. During the great heat of the day
she usually sought refuge in Almayer's campong, often finding shelter in
a shady corner of the verandah, where she squatted with her tray before
her, when invited by Nina. For "Mem Putih" she had always a smile, but
the presence of Mrs. Almayer, the very sound of her shrill voice, was the
signal for a hurried departure.

To this girl Nina often spoke; the other inhabitants of Sambir seldom or
never heard the sound of her voice. They got used to the silent figure
moving in their midst calm and white-robed, a being from another world
and incomprehensible to them. Yet Nina's life for all her outward