Moving mechanically to the light, the artist turned his face to Masago. A muffled cry escaped her lips. She shrank back, still clinging to the railing of the balcony.
“Kamura Junzo!” she cried. “You!—and here!”
“I do not know your voice,” he said in strange, wondering tones.
“I remember now,” she said. “You wrote a letter to the Princess Sado-ko. You wished to look—look at her. You—you asked the favor. Well—I—I am Sado-ko!”
He moved his head and stared upon her face with straining eyes.
“You are not Sado-ko!” he said.
She trembled with fear.
“I do assure you”—she began, her hand going to her throat to stay her frightened breathing.
“You are not Sado-ko, I say!”
Her voice was raised and shrill.