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. " "Oh!" exclaimed the widow, covering her face with her hands. And how comes his cloak on this knave's shoulders?" "It is his cloak, of a surety," returned Rowland "Harkye, sirrah," continued he, haughtily interrogating Wood; "where is the person from whom you received this mantle?" "Throttling a man isn't the way to make him answer questions," replied the carpenter, doggedly.
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