* * * * *

They left Paris and went to Deauville; and here it was that the serpent first crawled into Eden, whispering of forbidden fruit.  These serpents were charming people, amusing men and smart women, all anxious to make the acquaintance of the latest sensation, the Japanese millionairess and her good-looking husband.

Asako lunched with them and dined with them and sat with them near the sea in wonderful bathing costumes which it would be a shame to wet.  Conscious of the shortcomings of her figure as compared with those of the lissom mermaids who surrounded her, Asako returned to kimonos, much to her husband’s surprise; and the mermaids had to confess themselves beaten.

She listened to their talk and learned a hundred things, but another hundred at least remained hidden from her.

Geoffrey left his wife to amuse herself in the cosmopolitan society of the French watering-place.  He wanted this.  All the wives whom he had ever known seemed to enjoy themselves best when away from their husbands’ company.  He did not quite trust the spirit of mutual adoration, which the gods had given to him and his bride.  Perhaps it was an unhealthy symptom.  Worse still, it might be Bad Form.  He wanted Asako to be natural and to enjoy herself, and not to make their love into a prison house.

But he felt a bit lonely when he was away from her.  Occupation did not seem to come easily to him as it did when she was there to suggest it.  Sometimes he would loaf up and down on the esplanade; and sometimes he would take strenuous swims in the sea.  He became the prey of the bores who haunt every seaside place at home and abroad, lurking for lonely and polite people upon whom they may unload their conversation.

All these people seemed either to have been in Japan themselves or to have friends and relations who knew the country thoroughly.

A wonderful land, they assured him.  The nation of the future, the Garden of the East, but of course Captain Barrington knew Japan well.  No, he had never been there?  Ah, but Mrs. Barrington must have described it all to him.  Impossible!  Really?  Not since she was a baby?  How very extraordinary!  A charming country, so quaint, so original, so picturesque, such a place to relax in; and then the Japanese girls, the little mousmes, in their bright kimonos, who came fluttering round like little butterflies, who were so gentle and soft and grateful; but there!  Captain Barrington was a married man, that was no affair of his.  Ha!  Ha!

The elderly roues, who buzzed like February flies in the sunshine of Deauville, seemed to have particularly fruity memories of tea-house sprees and oriental philanderings under the cherry-blossoms of Yokohama.  Evidently, Japan was just like the musical comedies.