Vermeer girl with the pearl earring

¡¡¡¡'You're a preacher, aren't you?' he asked. ¡¡¡¡The hunters- there were six of them- to a man turned and regarded me. I was painfully aware of my likeness to a scarecrow. A laugh went up at my appearance- a laugh that was not lessened or softened by the dead man stretched and grinning on the deck before us; a laugh that was as rough and harsh and frank as the sea itself; that arose out of coarse feelings and blunted sensibilities, from natures that knew neither courtesy nor gentleness. ¡¡¡¡Wolf Larsen did not laugh, though his gray eyes lighted with a slight glint of amusement; and in that moment, having stepped forward quite close to him, I received my first impression of the man himself- of the man as apart from his body and from the torrent of blasphemy I had heard. The face, with large features and strong