“Junzo, they say that I was born without a heart, that because I was the child of gods I could not love as mortals do. Could you not tell them otherwise, my Junzo?”
The maid was weeping in the darkened room, her sobs clearly audible. They heard her crawling on her knees across the room, and then the soft thud of her prostration before the little shrine. Then came the mumbling words of her prayer:—
“Hear thou the prayer of the most humble one, O mighty Kuonnon. Save thou the soul of thy innocent descendant, she who—”
Sado-ko dropped the arm of her lover and started toward the maid.
“Natsu-no!” she cried out sharply, as the drone of the woman’s prayer ended, “for whom do you pray?”
The maid put her head at the princess’s feet.
“For you, O beloved mistress, I pray that the gods will save you from this artist-man.”
The princess spurned her with her little foot.
“If you make such foolish prayers, the gods may hear you,” she cried. “If they should grant your prayers and take him from me, why, I should be bereft of—Oh-h—”
She made a passionate movement toward the shrine, as though she would destroy it, but strong hands drew her away.