“But in your progressive land there must be skilled workmen who duplicate the curios and sell them to tourists as originals, are there not?” questioned Barclay.
“Don’t tell me that Yankee ingenuity abides in the land of the chrysanthemum,” protested Ethel.
Takasaki smiled broadly. “There live deceivers in every land; but it not possible for the antiques to be made again; the design of which is a lost art.”
“How about silver ornaments—flasks?” Barclay’s eyes never left the Japanese. “I bought one, curiously shaped, with a chrysanthemum pattern traced upon it, and believed it to be the only one of its kind. And yet, I have seen two of these flasks within two weeks.”
“We no have silver flasks in Nippon,” replied Takasaki quietly. “We have saki bottles—you mean those? No? Then you no buy silver flask in Nippon.” Takasaki’s tone of finality caused Ethel to stare at the two men, and she grew aware of an under-current of antagonism between them, and like the born diplomat that she was, instantly plunged into the conversation.
“I should love to own some real Japanese jewelry,” she said. “I imagine it must be very beautiful.”
“We no have jewelry,” announced Takasaki, smiling at her enthusiasm. “Only coat ornaments, neck charms, but no rings——”
“Then this must be Chinese.” As he spoke Barclay drew a ring from his little finger and passed it to the Japanese, who carried it to the window to inspect it in the sunshine.
“What a beautiful piece of jade!” exclaimed Ethel peeping over his shoulder. “It is so green, and what a unique setting!”
The jade, cut almost square, was set high in solid gold, and a dragon, heavily carved in the gold, was coiled around the jade, its head and claws overlapping the brilliant green stone.