concerning his answer to the question she was about to ask.
"Ah—oh—ah! You tole him 'bout—'bout that joke that liddle joke we make on him?"
The consul pretended ignorance. She explained:
"That 'bout me go'n' marry with Yamadori, an' take his bebby 'way?"
He had to answer now:
"Oh, that was—too—too foolish to talk about seriously."
Pinkerton had been glad to hear it.
"But—you—tole him?"
She hoped now he had not.
"Well—"
He looked out of the window. He would not strike, but she would be struck.
"But you you tole him?" She had raised her voice piteously.
"Yes," answered the consul, dully, wondering what he could say next.
She gasped, and wiped her dry lips.
"Yaes; tha' 's—right. Tha' 's—what I—as' you do. An' an' what he—say?" she questioned huskily.
The consul was willing to lie as deeply as the occasion might demand. The woe in the
