Almayer with shaking hands made gin cocktails, offered them all round, and drank himself, with every gulp feeling stronger, steadier, and better able to face all the difficulties of his position.

Ignorant of the fate of the brig he did not suspect the real object of the officer's visit.

He had a general notion that something must have leaked out about the gunpowder trade, but apprehended nothing beyond some temporary inconveniences.

After emptying his glass he began to chat easily, lying back in his chair with one of his legs thrown negligently over the arm.

The lieutenant astride on his chair, a glowing cheroot in the corner of his mouth, listened with a sly smile from behind the thick volumes of smoke that escaped from his compressed lips.