Marlow sat cross-legged right aft, leaning against the mizzen-mast. he had sunken cheeks, a yellow complexion, a straight back, an ascetic aspect, and, with his arms dropped, the palms of hands outwards, resembled an idol. the director, satisfied the anchor had good hold, made his way aft and sat down amongst us. we exchanged a few words lazily. afterwards there was silence on board the yacht. for some reason or other we did not begin that game of dominoes. we felt meditative, and fit for nothing but placid staring. the day was ending in a serenity of still and exquisite brilliance. the water shone pacifically; the sky, without a speck, was a benign immensity of unstained light; the very mist on the essex marshes was like a gauzy and radiant fabric, hung from the wooded rises inland, and draping the low shores in diaphanous folds. only the gloom to the west, brooding over the upper reaches, became more somber every minute, as if angered by the approach of the sun.

question:

what are some things you can infer about marlow? explain how you came to your conclusions.