She let Jack go as he passed through the opening. "I'll gibbet the rascal. “G. ” He slipped off the horse. That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies. Aha!" he continued, producing a short silver staff, which he carried constantly about with him, and uttering a terrible imprecation, "I see you're confounded. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them.
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