Yuki half closed her lids and peered forward, trying to recognize the speaker. "Oh, Inè, is that you? Yes, a terrible thing, two terrible things! My hair has fallen and my obi slips away. Arrange me quickly, Inè, quickly, and call a swift kuruma like Prince Haganè's. I must go somewhere now."
"Kashikomarimasu" (I hear and will obey), faltered the woman, but instead of advancing, crouched backward. She was afraid of the strange light in her mistress's eyes.
"Quick, I say! Did you not hear me?" cried Yuki, angrily, and clapped both hands together with a sharp sound. The obi fell, surrounding her in one great shimmering wheel. The terror in Inè's face brought the young wife to her senses. "It really is nothing, Inè," she said, trying hard to smile. "I had a little fall there in the drawing-room, and am dazed. Do not concern yourself or speak to the other servants. Go now at once and bring my long black adzuma-coat, another obi-domè and some foreign hair-pins. I have not the time to be entirely redressed. I will await your coming here."
Yuki stood at the foot of the steps. The servant sped upward. From the far end of the hall came Tora. The prearranged impassivity of his face was noticeable even to one in Yuki's excited state. "Well, Tora!" she said haughtily.
"Did you not wish me, your Ladyship?" asked the man, bowing in exaggerated deference. Yuki felt a hot wave pass along her neck and vanish against the pallor of her cheeks.
"I did not," she answered steadily. "But since you are here, I wish you to order my kuruma with two swift runners."
"Yes, your Ladyship." He did not move.
"You heard my order?"
"Your Highness," said the man, turning pale as he spoke, "I am only a servant, but I once lost by death a daughter of your age. There is something I would like to say."
Yuki bit her lip; a struggle went on within her. The dip of the scales came through Inè, who now hurried down the stairs.