“I fear no spy,” said the Prince, with contempt. “If I were permitted my own way” he added, savagely, “I would not linger here, but would start out alone, and cut my way through such worms and vipers.”
“If you wish to do so,” said Genji, with some asperity, “I shall take no measures to prevent you; but I had thought your highness desired to remain here at all events until after your wedding.”
The young Prince sighed, and, seating himself on a small lacquer stool by the parted doors, he rested his chin upon his hands and stared out gloomily at the landscape.
After a moment, in a gentler voice he rejoined:
“Is it not yet time for her to come?” without turning his head.
“No, my lord.”
The Prince sighed again.
“I once prided myself upon my habit of early rising,” he said. “Now it has become a nuisance.”
Silence again, and then:
“Sir Genji, what has become of the Lady Evening Glory? She has not returned to Catzu?”