“His writing have been given in English, and I believe are read by the most studious,” replied the Japanese. “And he travel here once or twice.”
“Has this Mr. Ito any relatives in the United States?” asked Ethel.
Takasaki considered the question before replying. “Many Itos in Nippon, Mees Ogden; and one most high admiral; but I no keep track of family member. You met a Nipponese name Ito?” and Ethel became conscious that his black eyes were boring into her with the intentness of his gaze.
“I have not met him, only seen him,” she corrected. “Yoshida Ito.”
The Japanese attaché shook his head. “I know Itos, but no Yoshida. You think my wife look well?” and by his manner Ethel knew that the topic of Yoshida Ito was to be taboo between them. She had tried too often to make Japanese discuss matters which they wished avoided, not to know the futility of such proceedings, and she accepted the change of conversation with good grace.
To James Patterson the dinner appeared never ending. He was furiously angry with Julian Barclay and Leonard McLane; but for the latter’s extraordinary conduct in the drawing room Julian Barclay would have been exposed and sent about his business. He could not conceive what had induced McLane to shield Barclay—he did McLane the justice to admit that money considerations would not influence him. Perhaps after all he was wrong, and Julian Barclay was the man he pretended to be. Patterson looked at Barclay, who sat on his side of the round table; no, he must be right, he could almost swear to his identity—but McLane? Patterson shook his head in bewilderment. There was nothing for it but to await the answer to his telegram.
“A penny for your thoughts?” said a soft voice at his side, and facing about Patterson smiled at Lois McLane, a happy edition of the Lois Tremaine whose troubled courtship had carried her along the path of crime safely to the altar with the man she worshiped.
“Can you not guess my thoughts?” asked Patterson.
“Well, judging by your glances, I imagine you are wishing you were seated by Ethel Ogden in place of the Japanese,” and Lois laughed mischievously. “It’s not very complimentary to me, but——”
“There are extenuating circumstances,” completed Patterson, reddening. He had not realized that his absorption in Ethel was observed by others, and as he seldom took teasing in good part, he hastened to change the conversation. “I cannot cure the Ogdens of inviting Japanese to their house; some day these Japs will bite the hand that feeds them.”