Do you believe now ?" Almayer raised his hands to his head and let them fall listlessly by his side in the utter abandonment of despair.

Babalatchi, looking at him curiously, was astonished to see him smile.

A strange fancy had taken possession of Almayer's brain, distracted by this new misfortune.

It seemed to him that for many years he had been falling into a deep precipice.

Day after day, month after month, year after year, he had been falling, falling, falling; it was a smooth, round, black thing, and the black walls had been rushing upwards with wearisome rapidity.