“Let me see your school book!” again she said.
“Why?”
He put it in her tiny hand.
“Thanks! Arigato!”
She bowed low. When she put the book on her shoulder, she was running away, singing:
“Miss Honourable Moon, how old are you?”
The boy stood aghast.
* * * * * * *
The author of this story found O Hana San again by the same well on the next evening.
The boy’s book in her hand, of course.