I thought so, and yet—
She smiled, and her eyes closed a trifle as she did so. She was all Japanese in a moment, and prettier than ever.
You see—your eyes and hair— he began again. She nodded and dimpled, and he knew she understood.
What is it you want with me? he asked, desiring rather to hear her speak than to learn her object, for this he knew.
She was solemn now. She flushed, and her eyes went down. To explain to him why she had come to him in this wise was a painful task. He could guess that, but she forced the words past her lips.
To be your wife, my lord, she said in English, and the queer quality of her voice thrilled him strangely.
This was the answer he knew was coming; nevertheless it stirred him in a way he had not expected. To have this wonderfully pretty girl before him, beseeching him to marry her—he who had as yet never dreamed of marriage for himself—was disturbing to his balance of mind. Nay, more—it was revolting. He shrank back involuntarily, wondering why she had come to him, and this wonder he put into words.
But why do you want to marry me? he asked.
The expression of her face was enigmatical now. She had ceased to blush and smile, and had become quite white. Suddenly she commenced to laugh—thrilling, elfish laughter, that rang out through the room, startling the echoes of the house.
Why? he repeated, fascinated.