"When I want you, M'Lino," said Sanders, "I will send for you."
"I loved him," she said, with more feeling than Sanders thought was possible for a native to show.
"You are an easy lover," said Sanders.
She nodded.
"That is the way with some women," she said. "When I love, I love with terrible strength; when I hate, I hate for ever and ever—I hate you, master!"
She said it very simply.
"If you were a man," said the exasperated Commissioner, "I would tie you up and whip you."
"F—f—b!" said the girl contemptuously, and left him staring.
To appreciate the position, you have to realise that Sanders was lord of all this district; that he had the power of life and death, and no man dared question or disobey his word. Had M'Lino been a man, as he said, she would have suffered for her treason—there is no better word for her offence—but she was a woman, and a seriously gifted woman, and, moreover, sure of whatever powers she had.
He did not see her again during the three days he was in the city, nor (this is the extraordinary circumstance) did he discuss her with the chief. He learned that she had become the favourite wife of O'Sako; that she had many lovers and scorned her husband, but he sought no news of her. Once he saw her walking towards him, and went out of his way to avoid her. It was horribly weak and he knew it, but he had no power to resist the impulse that came over him to give her a wide berth.