“Yes?” The other was curious. “And that is—?”

“My wife.”

“Your wife!” Taro stopped short. They were crossing the main street of Tokyo on foot.

“Yes,” said the other, laughing boyishly, all his resentment against the girl lost and forgiven for the time being.

“And so you did it, after all?” said the other, with slow, bitter emphasis. His friend, then, was little different from other foreigners who marry only to desert.

“Did what?”

“Got a wife.”

“Got a wife! Why, man, she came to me. She’s a witch, the sun-goddess herself. She’s had me under her spell all these months. She has hypnotized me.”

“And still has you under her spell?”

“I am wider awake to-day,” said Jack, soberly.