"Quite—up to the present. Look at the facts of the case. She's here to-day, and gone to-morrow. White yacht seen near Singapore to-day—copper-coloured off Macassar on Thursday—black with white ports near Shanghai the week following. The police and the poor old Admiral are turning gray under the strain."
"By Jove! I'd like to see her."
"Don't say that or you will. Nobody ever knows where she'll turn up next. It is certain that she has agents everywhere, and that she's in league with half the junk pirates along the coast. Glad I'm not a man worth abducting."
"But in spite of what you say, I can hardly believe that it's possible for a woman to carry on such a trade. It's like a romance."
"It's not like it, it is a romance, and a pretty unpleasant one too. Sultan of Surabaya and poor old Vesey were glad enough to see the final chapter of it, I can assure you. You should just hear the latter's description of the yacht and its appointments. He used to make us creep when he told us how this woman would sit on deck, looking him through and through out of her half closed eyes till he began to feel as if he'd have to get up and scream, or sit where he was and go mad. He saw two or three things on board that boat that he says he'll never forget, and I gathered that he doesn't want any more excursions in the lady's company."
"He must be a man without imagination."
"He's a man blessed with good sound common sense. That's what he is."
"All the same, as I said before, I'd like to see her."
