They sat down upon the clean white floor; the child lay coaxing in front of them. Neither offered a remark, but both sat in serious contemplation. It was he who first attempted to break the silence, and as he ventured to speak the partition in front slid back with a jerk, and Tetsutaisho walked forward and bowed.

“I trust I am not intruding,” said he, as he waited for Shibusawa to arise.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the younger of the two, rising and drawing his kimono about him. “It is I who seem to be unwelcome. Therefore please grant me the privilege of retiring.”

“As you like,” said the other, with an air of disinterestedness and a low bow. “Tetsutaisho welcomes his friends, always.”

“And Shibusawa recognises his enemies, now and then,” retorted he with a courteous bow, as he gracefully withdrew from their presence.

Shibusawa hurried back to Nehachibana’s room where he found her sitting and staring into space. Her features were expressionless, and her toilet showed a carelessness which until now had escaped his notice. He said a few kindly words to her, and retiring, hastened toward his own home. She paid little heed to what he said, and when he warmly gave her a parting farewell she blankly answered:

“Sayonara.”[[17]]

The disconsolate young man went home with a sadder heart and firmer determination than ever. He was fully convinced that Kinsan had been untrue, yet in charity he charged her failure to the law’s barrier. At first he had been stunned, and his love momentarily wavered; but as he gained freedom and more carefully reflected, his heart withstood the test and his mind regained its composure; and when he arose the next morning he set himself to his task with a will that knows no better victory than constancy.