“Yes,” said Aoi. “You are American, and because that is so your visit to my daughter is an insult.”
“No, I protest,” he said, warmly.
“You came for business?”
“No—but—”
“You came to make that love to her—yes—it is so?”
“Yes—but—er—”
Aoi stretched out her slim arm and pointed to the path leading to the front of the house. The gesture could have but one meaning. Young Saunders flushed angrily.
“This is a deuce of a way to take a fellow’s attentions,” he said, half to himself. “Why, I declare, I meant no harm.”
Aoi smiled incredulously.
“I am old,” she said, slowly; and at her flushed, almost youthful, face the young man smiled involuntarily. But she repeated her words: “I am old with experience, Mister—sir—and because I was the wife of an Englishman, I know from him the evil meant by such attention as yours to a maiden of Japan.”