What
he wanted with a pony goodness only knows, since I am perfectly certain
he could not ride it; but here you have the man, ambitious, aiming at
the grandiose, importing a pony, whereas in the whole settlement at
which he used to shake daily his impotent fist there was only one path
that was practicable for a pony: a quarter of a mile at most, hedged
in by hundreds of square leagues of virgin forest. But who knows? The
importation of that Bali pony might have been part of some deep scheme,
of some diplomatic plan, of some hopeful intrigue. With Almayer one
could never tell. He governed his conduct by considerations removed
from the obvious, by incredible assumptions, which rendered his logic
impenetrable to any reasonable person. I learned all this later. That
morning, seeing the figure in pajamas moving in the mist, I said to
myself, "That's the man."
He came quite close to the ship's side and raised a harassed
countenance, round and flat, with that curl of black hair over the
forehead and a heavy, pained glance.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
He looked hard at me: I was a new face, having just replaced the chief
mate he was accustomed to see; and I think that this novelty inspired
him, as things generally did, with deep-seated mistrust.
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