There was a slight stir behind the paper shoji beside them, causing the two men to glance towards it quickly. Then, with slight frowns, they nodded comprehendingly to each other.
“One of the unpleasant things of this country,” said the younger man, “is that privacy is an unknown quantity. As you perceive, we have had not only watchers but auditors.”
He indicated with a nod of his head a few little holes in the shoji, through one of which a little rosy-tipped finger protruded, as it carefully and cautiously widened the opening. The next moment the finger withdrew, and an eye, withdrawn from a smaller hole above, was applied to the larger hole. And the eye was blue!
“Christmas!” cried the attorney, springing to his feet indignantly. “Our listeners are not merely Japanese, it seems.”
In vexation he strode to the shoji, shook it angrily, and then savagely pushed it aside.
There was a great fluttering from within. The sliding-doors were now pushed wide apart, showing the inner apartment in its entirety. A bright-hued kimono was disappearing around an angle which led to a long hall, and close upon its heels a girl in a plum-colored kimono tripped and fell to the floor in a heap. Over to her strode the two men. She put her head to the mats and crouched in speechless fear and shame.
“What do you want?” the elder one demanded; “and what do you mean by listening at the door like this?”
She spoke with her head still bent to the floor.
“The insignificant one wished only to listen to the voices of the excellencies.”
The peculiar quality of her voice struck the men with a familiar tone. It was a voice they had heard but a little time since—but where?