“I am Kamura Junzo. I come from—” He made a slight motion toward the adjoining gardens.
A slow pink glow grew up into her face and spread even to her little ears and whitest neck. Her eyes were shining, almost as if there were tears within them.
“Ah,” she said softly, “I do remember you.”
“We are betrothed,” he said, passing his hand bewilderedly across his eyes.
“Betrothed?” she repeated in that sweet, low-toned voice.
“Yes, Masago. Do you not remember then?”
“But my name is not Masago,” she said simply.
“Not Masago!” he repeated.
“No. I am the Princess Sado-ko.”
After that there was a long silence between them. They looked into each other’s faces without speaking. Then the young man found his voice.