"Don't you think that I am not modern, just because I speak no English and have always lived in Japan," she flashed at him. "Nous sommes moderne, nous autres Japonnaises, n'est-ce-pas, Kikuchi-san?" It suited her. French harmonized better with her air of being a resplendent illusion of whimsical imagination.
Kikuchi came over. "Of course, we are modern, le dernier cri. We must show Kent. Now, how would it be if we all went to Tsurumi, to Kagetsuen. We will show him how Japan and jazz mix. I am sure my sister can fix it so you girls can go. Would you like it, Kent? I'm sure you would. All right, I'll let you know the day later."
The girls were radiant. "You must not think, Mr. Kent, that because we wear the kimono, we can't dance," bubbled Kimiko, protestingly. "I have been dancing for two years now, even at some of the public places, like Kagetsuen. But they are beginning to make a fuss about it, the newspapers and the old fogeys. I hope they don't stop it. My sister has never even been to Tsurumi. We'll have—what is it you say in English, Tsuyuko, oh, yes, a hellu off a time."
"Oh, be careful," the sister glanced about hastily. "Kimiko is so crazy to be modern that she wants to learn English phrases, and she likes the swear words best, I'm sorry I taught her. She won't be careful. She is irresponsible. Please pardon her. I wonder what Baroness Saiki would say."
Karsten came over, but even his rather grave manner could not daunt Kimiko-san. It seemed as if she wished to startle the sister, to impress her with the fact that she, at least, was not old-fashioned. "You look so grave, Mr. Karsten, so dignified, just like our old-fashioned Japanese men. You should be a Japanese, and have a Japanese wife, old-fashioned, of course. Would you like to have one?" She was laughing up at him, like a pretty, mischievous child enjoying its naughtiness.
Karsten laughed. "But I am so stupid about women. Now, if I do, will you find me one, a pretty one? Will you be my nakodo, my go-between?"
"Certainly. Of course, an old-fashioned man like you must have a marriage by arrangement, through a nakodo; but Tsuyuko and I, when we marry, we are modern, we shall marry for love, l'amour, n'est-ce-pas? We shall——"
"Ssst." Kikuchi made a quick warning gesture. Baroness Saiki came over to them. There was no perceptible hush, but the bright sparkle of the manner of the girls changed. They were still smiling, conversing, but it was the gentle, quaint loveliness of the Orient. The moment of glitter had gone. It was nothing as definite as palpable restraint which had come over them; still there seemed to be an indefinite barrier.
The groups broke up, changed, reformed. Every one left early. Kent saw the girls again only when they took leave. He thought he sensed a barely perceptible, still almost definite pressure of Kimiko's hand, as she said good-by, the slightest hint of a glint in the dark brilliancy of her eyes. But he could not be sure; he wondered.
The Saiki mansion was close to the Karsten house, and they walked home in the moonlight, through the streets of the geisha quarter with the opaquely lighted shoji contrasting, brilliantly white, against the dark walls, tinkle of samisen and ripples of women's laughter coming out to them in the night.