“Look here, I’ll put in my resignation right away, and I’ll come along with you.”

“No, thanks,” said Geoffrey, “rather not.”

In his excitement Reggie had failed to observe the chilliness of his friend’s demeanour.  This snub direct brought up the whole chain of events, which Reggie had momentarily forgotten, or which were too recent as yet to have assumed complete reality.

“I’m sorry, Geoffrey,” he said, as he rose to go.

“Not at all,” said Barrington, ignoring his friend’s hand and turning aside to order another drink.

Geoffrey had a letter in his pocket, received from his wife that morning.  It ran:—­

“DEAR GEOFFREY,—­I am very sorry.  I cannot come back.  It is not only what has happened.  I am Japanese.  You are English.  You can never really love me.  Our marriage was a mistake.  Everybody says so even Reggie Forsyth.  I tried my best to want to come back.  I went to Reggie last night, and asked him what actually happened.  He says that our marriage was a mistake, and that our coming to Japan was a mistake.  So do I. I think we might have been happy in England.  I want you to divorce me.  It seems to be very easy in Japan.  You only have to write a letter, which Mr. Ito will give you.  Then I can become quite Japanese again, and Mr. Fujinami can take me back into his family.  Also you will be free to marry an English girl.  But don’t have anything to do with Miss Smith.  She is a very bad girl.  I shall never marry anybody else.  My cousins are very kind to me.  It is much better for me to stay in Japan.  Titine said I was wrong to go away.  Please give her fifty pounds from me, and send her back to France, if she wants to go.  I don’t think it is good for us to see each other.  We only make each other unhappy.  Tanaka is here.  I do not like him now.  Good-bye!  Good-bye!

    “Your loving,

    “ASAKO.”

From this letter Geoffrey understood that Reggie Forsyth also was against him.  The request for a divorce baffled him entirely.  How could he divorce his wife, when he had nothing against her?  In answer, he wrote another frantic appeal to her to return to him.  There was no answer.

Then he left Tokyo for Yokohama—­it is only eighteen miles away—­to wait there until his boat started.

Thither he was pursued by Ito.

“I am sorry for you.”  The revolting little man always began his discourse now with this exasperating phrase.  “Mrs. Barrington would like very much to obtain the divorce.  She wishes very much to have her name inscribed on family register of Fujinami house.  If there is no divorce, this is not possible.”

“But,” objected Geoffrey, “it is not so easy to get divorced as to get married—­unfortunately.”

“In Japan,” said the lawyer, “it is more easy, because we have different custom.”

“Then there must be a lot of divorces,” said Geoffrey grimly.