It was the first time I had heard her sing, and I lay by the fire, listening and transported, for she was nothing if not an artist in everything she did, and her voice, though not strong, was wonderfully sweet and expressive.
I still slept in the boat, and I lay awake long that night, gazing up at the first stars I had seen in many nights and pondering the situation.
Responsibility of this sort was a new thing to me.

Wolf Larsen had been quite right.

I had stood on my father's legs.

My lawyers and agents had taken care of my money for me.

I had had no responsibilities at all.
Then, on the _Ghost_ I had learned to be responsible for myself.