“The eyes of a foolish wife are blind,” said Matsuda. “What a pity that yours could not sooner perceive the baseness of the barbarian.”
“Baseness,” she repeated. “I do not understand.”
“You think your husband will return to you?”
“I am sure of it.”
“And against his coming you embroider rich garments for his child.”
The blood rose slowly to her temples. Her fingers twitched and then she closed them tightly.
“Yes,” she said; “it is true.”
Matsuda laughed harshly.
“Yet,” said he, “it is not your husband who pays for these garments of your child.”
She stared at him incredulously.