“Oh, yes, I know Sato,” answered the curator, seemingly without the slightest hesitation. “He has been in Mexico—is quite a student.”
“And the other man, Otaka?”
“Other man—Otaka? You mean his wife?”
I saw Kennedy check a motion of surprise and came to the rescue with the natural question: “His wife—with a beard and mustache?”
It was Bernardo’s turn to be surprised. He looked at me a moment, then saw that I meant it, and suddenly his face lighted up.
“Oh,” he exclaimed, “that must have been on account of the immigration laws or something of the sort. Otaka is his wife. The Ainus are much sought after by the Japanese as wives. The women, you know, have a custom of tattooing mustaches on themselves. It is hideous, but they think it is beautiful.”
“I know,” I pursued, watching Kennedy’s interest in our conversation, “but this was not tattooed.”
“Well, then, it must have been false,” insisted Bernardo.
The curator chatted a few moments, during which I expected Kennedy to lead the conversation around to Señora Herreria. But he did not, evidently fearing to show his hand.
“What did you make of it?” I asked, when he had gone. “Is he trying to hide something?”