"Hai, master. I recall now two strange and alert ones who appeared to be young."
"Was one of a pink color, like buds of a kaido bloom, and eyes a deep-blue color?"
"All were red and hideous. The one who tried to speak with me had rice-straw on his head in place of decent hair."
"Ah," said Haganè, puffing at his pipe.
"Yes, your Highness, and in our conversation she informed me that the Todds were well aware of her shameful passion, and that the women upheld it."
Silence fell between the men. Tetsujo bit his finger-nails in his impatience.
"In three more days," began the other, slowly, "Mr. Todd will be formally presented to his Sacred Majesty; after that ceremony he will not, I think, permit his women to aid Yuki in a marriage which is against your wishes and—mine."
Onda gave a joyful start.
"Wait," said Haganè, "there is more to be said; I must take a moment's counsel with myself." At these words he fell into a reverie so profound that his spirit seemed to be absent from his breathing body.
Tetsujo controlled himself as best he could. The whole affair was galling to his pride. He resented even Haganè's knowing of the indignity; yet he had no recourse but Haganè. The rain-water, trickling with a sound of dull clinking coins down the tin corner-spouts, irritated him to madness. He hated the little wet sparrows who sat up under the eaves and exchanged uncomplimentary remarks about the weather. Haganè's power of concentration was in itself reproof and another source of irritation. The great man came to himself without a start.