A fine help you are to me." "You shouldn't drink so much, Almayer," said Willems, disguising his fury under an affected drawl.

"You have no head.

Never had, as far as I can remember, in the old days in Macassar.

You drink too much." "I drink my own," retorted Almayer, lifting his head quickly and darting an angry glance at Willems.
Those two specimens of the superior race glared at each other savagely for a minute, then turned away their heads at the same moment as if by previous arrangement, and both got up.

Almayer kicked off his slippers and scrambled into his hammock, which hung between two wooden columns of the verandah so as to catch every rare breeze of the dry season, and Willems, after standing irresolutely by the table for a short time, walked without a word down the steps of the house and over the courtyard towards the little wooden jetty, where several small canoes and a couple of big white whale-boats were made fast, tugging at their short painters and bumping together in the swift current of the river.