CHAPTER XXVI
MASAGO’S RETURN
CHAPTER XXVI
MASAGO’S RETURN
ALONE in the quiet guest room of the Yamada house they sat. Convention demanded a light, but it was of the dimmest—a dull and flickering andon. Yet the night was clear. By the shoji walls they sat, looking into each other’s faces, thinking always of the morrow.
She had listened without interrupting while in low, tense voice he had told her of a madness once felt for a high princess. When he had quite finished and sat in silent, moody gloom, she moved nearer to him, then slipped her hand into his, and nestled up against his shoulder. Her voice was soothing in its quality.
“By this time the little bird—the poor caged nightingale is dead,” she said. “The gods were more kind to you, Junzo, for see, you are so strong you beat away the cage-bars and are quite free to love again.”
Pressing his face against her hair, he said solemnly:—
“The gods are witness of this fact. You are the only one that I have ever loved.”