She understood now the reason and the aim of life; and in the triumphant unveiling of that mystery she threw away disdainfully her past with its sad thoughts, its bitter feelings, and its faint affections, now withered and dead in contact with her fierce passion.
Mrs.Almayer unmoored Nina's own canoe and, straightening herself painfully, stood, painter in hand, looking at her daughter.
"Quick," she said; "get away before the moon rises, while the river is dark.

I am afraid of Abdulla's slaves.

The wretches prowl in the night often, and might see and follow you.

There are two paddles in the canoe." Nina approached her mother and hesitatingly touched lightly with her lips the wrinkled forehead.

Mrs.Almayer snorted contemptuously in protest against that tenderness which she, nevertheless, feared could be contagious.
"Shall I ever see you again, mother ?" murmured Nina.
"No," said Mrs.Almayer, after a short silence.