“Command! A little while ago—or maybe it was long ago, within another lifetime, she said it was an ancient practice to obey parental command. Yet I always was so fond of the old rules of life that I will recognize my duty, father. I bow in filial submissiveness to your high will.”
But as he bowed his head in mock obedience he was so weak he would have fallen down, but that the sturdy Kido and his father supported him.
For days and weeks the artist-man of Kamakura tossed upon a bed of illness, a prey to violent fever of the brain, so termed by the great Dutch doctor visiting the little town. After many days there came a calm. Junzo slept and dreamed.
He thought the angel face of Sado-ko bent over his heated head, and that she brushed the tumbled locks back from his brow, and cooled it with her own soft, lovely hands. He cried her name and whispered it again and yet again. Was it only fancy, or did he truly hear that low, low voice, sighing back in answer, and soothing him with tender words of love?
CHAPTER XXIII
THE CONVALESCENT
