"What are you going to do with that?" he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I'm going back to my island."
He gave a laugh that distorted his grim face. The captain was dying and she meant to get away with all she could lay hands on.
"What'll you do if I say you can't take those things? They're the captain's."
"They're no use to you," she said.
There was a calabash hanging on the wall. It was the very calabash I had seen when I came into the cabin and which we had talked about. She took it down. It was all dusty, so she poured water into it from the water-bottle, and rinsed it with her fingers.
"What are you doing with that?"
"I can sell it for fifty dollars," she said.
"If you want to take it you'll have to pay me."