I hoped to live here without seeing any other white face but this," she added in a gentler tone, touching lightly her father's cheek.
Almayer ceased his mumbling and opened his eyes.

He caught hold of his daughter's hand and pressed it to his face, while Nina with the other hand smoothed his rumpled grey hair, looking defiantly over her father's head at the officer, who had now regained his composure and returned her look with a cool, steady stare.

Below, in front of the verandah, they could hear the tramp of seamen mustering there according to orders.

The sub-lieutenant came up the steps, while Babalatchi stood up uneasily and, with finger on lip, tried to catch Nina's eye.
"You are a good girl," whispered Almayer, absently, dropping his daughter's hand.
"Father! father!" she cried, bending over him with passionate entreaty.
"See those two men looking at us.

Send them away.