Kent came over to them. "I say, aren't you chaps coming upstairs?" They went up together, to the ballroom where dancing had already begun, and stood near the entrance watching the dancers.
"An odd scene, isn't it, this combination of East and West," commented Roberts. "They actually do seem graceful with their wonderful, fanciful kimonos. Look at this girl just passing us. Can they really dance?"
"Can a duck swim? That young lady is Miss Kimiko Suzuki, a special friend of Kent's." Kittrick turned towards Kent. "Roberts is just admiring your friend, Miss Kimiko——" But Kent was not listening. He had noticed Sylvia coming towards them and stepped forward to meet her. "I was hoping to see you here. You know, I haven't seen you since that night at Ikegami."
"I am just on my way to find some cool place." He followed her as she went towards the stairway. "There's such a crush in here, and I am rather tired, anyway."
They found a nook, balcony-like, discreetly tucked away in the labyrinth of porticoes and passages, overhanging a court with a long stone-set pool, whose jet-black, surface, lacquer-like, gave back glimmering reflection of the stars. A few commonplaces; then they fell silent. He reflected how odd it was that with this girl he obtained complete satisfaction, the delicious feeling of absolute content, superlative well-being, by merely being in her presence. Strains of a waltz air came down to them, softened, etherealized by distance, intertwined with the sound from a fountain plashing into the pool, monotonous, hypnotic. She was leaning forward, cheek pillowed on one hand, the other lying on the balustrade. He took it between his, held it, without definite forethought, intention; somehow, it seemed just the natural thing to do—and apparently it seemed so to her, too; she let it rest there; merely looked at him softly, dreamily, hardly even questioning. He knew that he would make love to her, would ask her to marry him; ideas, words began to stir about, moving as if in a jumble in his mind, trying to form themselves into phrases; but they refused to shape themselves into tangible, definite sentences, and he felt as if they were hardly necessary. They were in the perfect accord, attunement, that rendered words superfluous. Of course, he must say them some time, later in the evening, in a few minutes, perhaps, but now, just now, he wished merely to sit like this, enjoying the sense of their coming together, fusion, love, brought about perfectly, disdainful of the crude medium of words.
But a mumble of voices could be heard among the pillars behind them. A group passed, unseen, chattering, below. Hurried footsteps rang along the tiles. He roused himself. "Sylvia——"
The footsteps had come right up to them. "Here, Kent." It was Karsten; of all men one would have thought that he at least would have had more tact. But he rushed right up to them heedlessly, blunderingly. "Kent, I've been hunting high and low for you. Kikuchi is waiting for you in his auto at the side entrance to take you to the cable office. Big news. Beat it. Don't bother about your hat or stick. I don't know what it is, but it's big news. For God's sake, hurry," he was propelling him down the hallway now. "I'll look after Miss Elliott for you in the meanwhile; only move."
As he peered into the automobile standing at the side entrance, hands seized him and dragged him in. "Kyubashi post-office, quick." It was Kikuchi's voice giving directions to the chauffeur. "Kent, old man, I'm giving you the beat of the year. Mito, the Premier, was assassinated less than half an hour ago. I happened to be at my father's house when they notified him. The cable office closes in fifteen minutes. The news isn't out yet. You have a chance to beat the world. You did me a favor with Kimiko-san, though probably you may not have realized it. I'm trying to pay you back now."
"Mito, assassinated!" By the gods, the biggest story out of Japan since the stabbing of Premier Hara. "But what are the details, Kikuchi? For God's sake, tell me all you know."
"Nothing much is known yet, though it seems more sinister than the Hara case. Mito was shot at the entrance of his official residence. A volley, not a single shot, was fired through the board fence opposite. They had made loopholes in it. They claim that there must have been half a dozen of them, at least. No, no one has been caught. Yes, he's dead as a doornail. That's all I know. Well, here we are. I'll wait for you. Be quick."