Ada was sweet as could be.
“Tell me your honourable love story!” she chattered.
I did only blush.
I hadn’t the courage to burst my secrecy.
I loved once truly.
It was an innocent love as from a fairy book.
If true love could be realised!
In the park I noticed a lady who scissored the “don’t touch” flowers and stepped away with a saintly air. The comical fancy came to me that she was the mother of a policeman guarding against intruders.
We found ourselves in the Japanese tea garden.
A tiny musume in wooden clogs brought us an honourable tea and o’senbe.