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 favoured 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." "The sooner you get accustomed to it, the better," he said.
"I'll furnish you with cloth, needles, and thread," he added.