"No, no," says he, "they are only saluting us."
"Saluting me?" says I. "How dare they? Of course they knew I should jump and scream. So loud, too! No young girl would stand it."
With that, I lifted my parasol, and walked across the plank on to the deck of that steamboat, and sat down.
Them Japanese came after, and sat down close to me. Mr. Iwakura looked at me, and I looked at him. He smiled, and I smiled. This Japanee knows how to smile with his eyes, and that's more than a good many other men can do.
Then I felt it my duty to talk a little, as these Japanese had been invited on my account; so, thinking that he would expect something original from me, I said:
"I think we shall have a pleasant day, Mr. Iwakura."
"Yes," says he, in real cunning English, looking as if he appreciated my little speech.
"I really hope," says I, "that you and your friends will feel quite at home."
He said "Yes," again, and smiled.
That smile was catching.