"What does she mean?" said Geoffrey. Thank God, the woman was clearly mad.
"Fujinami! Fujinami!" she yelled. "The great girl king! The Yoshiwara daimyo! Every scrap of money which his fool wife spends on sham curios was made in the Yoshiwara, made by women, made out of filth, made by prostitutes!"
The last word brought Geoffrey to his feet. In his real agony he had quite forgotten his sham sin.
"Reggie, for God's sake, tell me, is this true?"
"Yes," said Reggie quietly, "it is quite true."
"Then why did no one tell me?"
"Husbands," said the young man, "and prospective husbands are always the last to learn. Yaé, go back to the hotel. You have done enough harm for to-day."
"Not unless you forgive me, Reggie," the girl pleaded. "I will never go unless you forgive."
"I can't forgive," he said, "but I can probably forget."
The wrath of these two men fascinated her. She would have waited if she could, listening at the door. Reggie knew this.