The monkey was always there to receive and introduce Ford.

The little animal seemed to have taken complete charge of its master, and whenever it wished for his presence on the verandah it would tug perseveringly at his jacket, till Almayer obediently came out into the sunshine, which he seemed to dislike so much.
One morning Ford found him sitting on the floor of the verandah, his back against the wall, his legs stretched stiffly out, his arms hanging by his side.

His expressionless face, his eyes open wide with immobile pupils, and the rigidity of his pose, made him look like an immense man-doll broken and flung there out of the way.

As Ford came up the steps he turned his head slowly.
"Ford," he murmured from the floor, "I cannot forget." "Can't you ?" said Ford, innocently, with an attempt at joviality: "I wish I was like you.

I am losing my memory--age, I suppose; only the other day my mate--" He stopped, for Almayer had got up, stumbled, and steadied himself on his friend's arm.
"Hallo! You are better to-day.