"You think Asako is still very Japanese, then?" asked Geoffrey.
"Not her manners, or her looks, or even her thoughts," replied Murata, "but nothing can change the heart."
"Then do you think she is homesick sometimes for Japan?" said her husband.
"Oh no," smiled Murata. The little wizened man was full of smiles. "She left Japan when she was not two years old. She remembers nothing at all."
"I think one day we shall go to Japan," said Geoffrey, "when we get tired of Europe, you know. It is a wonderful country, I am told; and it does not seem right that Asako should know nothing about it. Besides, I should like to look into her affairs and find out about her investments."
Murata was staring at his yellow boots with an embarrassed air. It suddenly struck the Englishman that he, Geoffrey Harrington, was related to people who looked like that, and who now had the right to call him cousin. He shivered.
"You can trust her lawyers," said the Japanese, "Mr. Ito is an old friend of mine. You may be quite certain that Asako's money is safe."
"Oh yes, of course," assented Geoffrey, "but what exactly are her investments? I think I ought to know."
Murata began to laugh nervously, as all Japanese do when embarrassed.
"Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, "but I do not know myself. The money has been paid regularly for nearly twenty years; and I know the Fujinami are very rich. Indeed, Captain Barrington, I do not think Asako would like Japan. It was her father's last wish that she should never return there."