“Mother,” he said, “why was I not informed of the claims made by—Mr. Lorrimer?”
“Oh, son, I feared to tell you,” she replied, tremulously; “the little one besought me not to do so.”
“It was only by accident,” he said, “that I learned the facts. We happened to cross on the same steamer, and, somehow, Mr. Lorrimer confided in me.”
Aoi clung to her son’s hand, but she did not speak. Her face was raised to his as though she listened eagerly to every word he uttered.
“I came back to Japan,” he said, “for another purpose—to prevent, if I could, Hyacinth’s marriage. It was entirely without my approval. I consider her little more than a child. However, I shortly discovered that I had no right to dictate to her even in this matter. Her father—” He indicated, slightly, Mr. Lorrimer, who seized the opportunity to step forward.
He spoke jerkily and somewhat impatiently.
“It seems to me that we are wasting time. You will, I am sure, perceive my intense anxiety to see my—er—daughter.”
“I beg your pardon for detaining you. It was very stupid of me.” Komazawa turned back to Aoi.
“Where is she, mother?” he asked, simply.
Silently Aoi shook her drooped head. She could not speak.