My intimacy with Wolf Larsen increases--if by intimacy may be denoted those relations which exist between master and man, or, better yet, between king and jester.

I am to him no more than a toy, and he values me no more than a child values a toy.

My function is to amuse, and so long as I amuse all goes well; but let him become bored, or let him have one of his black moods come upon him, and at once I am relegated from cabin table to galley, while, at the same time, I am fortunate to escape with my life and a whole body.
The loneliness of the man is slowly being borne in upon me.

There is not a man aboard but hates or fears him, nor is there a man whom he does not despise.

He seems consuming with the tremendous power that is in him and that seems never to have found adequate expression in works.