"Lend me your gun, Almayer," said Willems, across the table on which a smoky lamp shone redly above the disorder of a finished meal.

"I have a mind to go and look for a deer when the moon rises to-night." Almayer, sitting sidewise to the table, his elbow pushed amongst the dirty plates, his chin on his breast and his legs stretched stiffly out, kept his eyes steadily on the toes of his grass slippers and laughed abruptly.
"You might say yes or no instead of making that unpleasant noise," remarked Willems, with calm irritation.
"If I believed one word of what you say, I would," answered Almayer without changing his attitude and speaking slowly, with pauses, as if dropping his words on the floor.

"As it is--what's the use?
You know where the gun is; you may take it or leave it.Gun.Deer.

Bosh! Hunt deer! Pah! It's a.

.