“For goodness sake,” said Leslie, “don’t make mountains out of molehills. They saw me kiss you, well, what of that? and they don’t talk English—at least, English that any one can understand.”
“But like that on the floor,” murmured Jane, comforted somewhat by the last statement.
“Well, what of that? We are in Japan, where people live on the floor. I admit if a servant in England came in and saw—”
“Don’t!” screamed she; “don’t speak about it again. It was a moment of weakness; let us forget it. I mean, let us remember it as a warning.”
“Do you feel like eating luncheon?” he asked, looking at the pathetic little dishes and tea-cups, each on its sea-green mat.
“No; I feel like nothing. I only want to go and bury myself.”
He poured her out some tea and took some himself.
“You frightened me,” she said in a tremulous voice after they had sat for a moment in silence. “I thought you were going to do something dreadful.”
“When?”
“When you took that cage down with the buzzing thing in it that annoyed you—poor atom!”