Wistaria trembled.
“I do not know,” she replied, in a low voice.
“He has not mentioned his rank to you?”
“Only that he was of honorably insignificant rank.”
“Humph! Well, that is but a natural reply. What is his appearance?”
For a brief moment a gleam of strange pride came over her face. She pressed her little hands passionately together.
“Oh, my father, he is honorably noble, I do assure you. He possesses—”
“I did not ask for a rhapsody upon his merits,” interrupted the samurai, coldly. “However, I am satisfied as to his rank.”
A tear fell softly upon her little hand. Feeling, rather than seeing, her father’s irritation, she brushed it away impatiently, trying vainly to appear brave.
“Now,” resumed Shimadzu, half to himself, “if he is of noble rank it follows that he is close to the Mori family. Very good.”