The knuckles were skinned and inflamed clear across, the fingers swollen, the nails rimmed with black. I felt the mattress-like growth of beard on my neck, knew that the sleeve of my coat was ripped, that a button was missing from the throat of the blue shirt I wore. The dirk mentioned by Wolf Larsen rested in its sheath on my hip. It was very natural that it should be there- how natural I had not imagined until now, when I looked upon it with her eyes and knew how strange it and all that went with it must appear to her.
? ? ? ? But she divined the mockery in Wolf Larsen's words, and again favored me with a sympathetic glance. But there was a look of bewilderment also in her eyes. That it was mockery made the situation more puzzling to her.
? ? ? ? 'I may be taken off by some passing vessel, perhaps,' she suggested.
? ? ? ? 'There will be no passing vessels, except other sealing-schooners,' Wolf Larsen made answer.
? ? ? ? 'I have no clothes, nothing,' she objected. 'You hardly realize, sir, that I am not a man, or that I am unaccustomed to the vagrant, careless life which you and your men seem to lead.
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