“It is the most undeniably jolly shopping excursion I ever engaged in,” said I, fervently and truthfully.
“You see,” she went on, “the delight of this sort of thing is that we are in an utterly foreign country and can do just as we please. That is why I did not wish Hilda to come with us. She is rather prim and has notions of propriety which are all right at home, but what is the use of coming to foreign countries if you cannot enjoy them as you wish to?”
“I think that is a very sensible idea,” said I.
“Why, it seems as if you and I were members of a travelling theatrical company, and were taking part in ‘The Mikado,’ doesn’t it? What funny little people they are all around us! Nagasaki doesn’t seem real. It looks as if it were set on a stage,—don’t you think so?”
“Well, you know, I am rather accustomed to it. I have lived here for more than a year, as I told you.”
“Oh, so you said. I have not got used to it yet. Have you ever seen ‘The Mikado?’”
“Do you mean the Emperor or the play?”
“At the moment I was thinking of the play.”
“Yes, I have seen it, and the real Mikado, too, and spoken with him.”
“Have you, indeed? How lucky you are!”