“He talks about her rather as if she were a horse,” thought Geoffrey.  Murata went on,—­

“The Japanese woman is the ivy which clings to the tree.  She does not wish to disobey.”

“You think Asako is still very Japanese, then?” asked Geoffrey.

“Not her manners, or her looks, or even her thoughts,” replied Murata, “but nothing can change the heart.”

“Then do you think she is homesick sometimes for Japan?” said her husband.

“Oh no,” smiled Murata.  The little wizened man was full of smiles.  “She left Japan when she was not two years old.  She remembers nothing at all.”

“I think one day we shall go to Japan,” said Geoffrey, “when we get tired of Europe, you know.  It is a wonderful country, I am told; and it does not seem right that Asako should know nothing about it.  Besides, I should like to look into her affairs and find out about her investments.”

Murata was staring at his yellow boots with an embarrassed air.  It suddenly struck the Englishman that he, Geoffrey Harrington, was related to people who looked like that, and who now had the right to call him cousin.  He shivered.

“You can trust her lawyers,” said the Japanese, “Mr. Ito is an old friend of mine.  You may be quite certain that Asako’s money is safe.”

“Oh yes, of course,” assented Geoffrey, “but what exactly are her investments?  I think I ought to know.”

Murata began to laugh nervously, as all Japanese do when embarrassed.

“Mon Dieu!” he exclaimed, “but I do not know myself.  The money has been paid regularly for nearly twenty years; and I know the Fujinami are very rich.  Indeed, Captain Barrington, I do not think Asako would like Japan.  It was her father’s last wish that she should never return there.”

“But why?” asked Geoffrey.  He felt that Murata was keeping something from him.  The little man answered,—­

“He thought that for a woman the life is more happy in Europe; he wished Asako to forget altogether that she was Japanese.”

“Yes, but now she is married and her future is fixed.  She is not going back permanently to Japan, but just to see the country.  I think we would both of us like to.  People say it is a magnificent country.”

“You are very kind,” said Murata, “to speak so of my country.  But the foreign people who marry Japanese are happy if they stay in their own country, and Japanese who marry foreigners are happy if they go away from Japan.  But if they stay in Japan they are not happy.  The national atmosphere in Japan is too strong for those people who are not Japanese or are only half Japanese.  They fade.  Besides life in Japan is very poor and rough.  I do not like it myself.”

Somehow Geoffrey could not accept these as being the real reasons.  He had never had a long talk with a Japanese man before; but he felt that if they were all like that, so formal, so unnatural, so secretive, then he had better keep out of the range of Asako’s relatives.