Strange watched her, as a naturalist might watch an entirely new animal. Clever and hard as he was in his bullying way, he felt instinctively that he had little chance of getting the better of this woman, unless--as he phrased it--he kept his tail up. "She's the dandiest devil I ever sot eyes on," was his admiring verdict. "Golly, wot a flyer! Huh!"
Lady Jim, twisting her hands distressfully, strolled slowly up and down, with bent head and thoughtful looks. At times she would halt and reflect deeply; then her face would brighten as she resumed her prowling. Sometimes she glanced at Strange, sitting like a graven image in his chair, and occasionally she peered into any near mirror as if to seek inspiration from her own wicked eyes. For ten minutes amidst a petrifying silence she behaved thus; then, having solved part of her problem--the solution of the other part depended upon Strange's consent--she returned to face him.
"Do you mind imprisonment?" she asked casually.
The sailor jumped. "Goin' t' begin agin?" he demanded irritably.
"Answer my question. Do you mind imprisonment?"
"I do an' I don't, accordin' to th' dollars. Give it a name."
"Five thousand pounds."
"Twenty-five thousand, States currency," mused the captain. "Y wish me t' sample one of your gaols fur thet."
She nodded. "On charges of conspiracy and blackmail."
Strange jumped again. "My gun! D'y' intend t' advertise th' circus?"