Her queer little staccato voice fell mournfully at the end, and the samisen concluded her song in its lower keys.
Plum Blossom tried to explain to them what it was she sang, though both Billy and Marion now partially understood the language.
“The soldiers marching way, naever, naever come bag. All maidens must not cry, bud pray for them.”
She threw a reproachful look at Marion, who had wept so often.
“Tell her to sing something happy,” said Billy.
Mrs. Kurukawa addressed the girl, as she spoke Japanese with more than usual fluency.
“Whose songs do you sing?”
“My own, honored one.”
“You make up your own songs?”
“Yes, gracious lady.”