“You blockhead, tell me, does she come or does she not.”
“No crazy woman comes; but Mr. Shiota’s daughter comes.”
“The Osho-san may be great; but he won’t be able to make anything of the poor girl. She is possessed by her former husband.”
“That lady is a very worthy woman. The Osho-san speaks highly of her.”
“That beats all. Everything is topsy-turvy up there, above the stone steps. Whatever the Osho-san may say, the mad must be mad—Here now, all shaved. Hurry home and get another scolding.”
“No, not yet. I shall take little more time to get a good opinion of the Osho-san.”
“Do as you please, you long-tongued brat.”
“Go on, you dry rot.”
“What!”
But the clean shaved head dived under and was on the other side of the curtain, the Spring breeze softly fanning it.