"Yes—why, of course," said he once more, and a laugh en masse cleared the air.
Garland, in a panic, was searching his pockets.
"What lot pockets!" sighed Black-Eyes, insidiously desiring to compose his nerves.
"Sixteen," admitted Garland. "I wish they were only one, just now. By Jove, I've lost that letter!"
The graceful mother arrived with the tobaco-bon (there appeared to be no servant), and Garland, professing an ignorance which seems problematical after three months in Japan, desired to be initiated into the art and mystery of the Japanese pipe. The tender was made to Purple-Eyes, but Black-Eyes undertook it.
"So," she said, rolling a pellet of the tobacco, and putting it into the pipe; "an' so," as she fearlessly put a live coal upon it with her fingers; "so," as she put it to her own lips and sent out a tiny puff; "an'—an'—an' so!" as she laughed and put it to his. And yet Garland found himself wishing that the other one had done it, and believing that she could do it better! And this, you perceive, was already perilous business.
It was afternoon when Garland arrived,
