“They told me,” he said, “but I do not believe them.”
“Thas true,” she said, and there was a plaintive note of weariness in her voice. “He cum lig’ unto a storm that fall down from those sky wiz no warning. When I am come from my door, he there to await me. He speag my name sof’—kind—lig’ you, Tojin-san! No one aever speag unto me lig’ thad before. No! They bud cry to me those name and curse and throw the stone upon me! Bud he! he speag lig’ you augustness.
“Ad firs’ my heart stan’ still—it ’fraid. I thing of my father—my mother, and I am ’fraid he come kill me also. Then again he speag my name sof’ and kind, an’ I say ad my heart: ‘Thas god come veesit me!’ An’ so—an’ so—for him I mek the sacred danze. But when I am through, I know I mek meestake—thas nod god ad all! Thas jost man from Fukui!
“Then my heart laugh wizin me, and my feet carry me quick across those mountain. I loog nod bag, though I hear his voice, for I am thad ’fraid agin. I know nod why, Tojin-san.”
Her voice faltered. She went a timid step nearer to him, touched his hand questioningly with her own.
“The blind see wiz one thousand inner eye, bud, ah, alas! they see nod also for another. How could I know thad the foolish one would nod loog upon his steps?”
She shuddered and covered her face with her little shaking hands.
“How many days I waiting ad thad pool—jos’ waiting, Tojin-san, wiz the hope that mebbe some day he goin’ come bag out those water.”
“You must never think of it again,” he said. “You were entirely blameless.”
“Sometime I thing,” she went on wistfully, “thad mebbe those Fukui people right, an me?—I am truly a fox-woman. For see what trobble, what—death I mek for those who see me. Even for you, kind Tojin-san, alas! I mus’ bring you those pain!”