—then the tears came slowly into her eyes—"you—the mos' bes' nize man—in all the—whole—wort'."
She closed her eyes a moment, and stood quite still.
The consul said below his breath:
" Pinkerton, and all such as he!"
"Goon night," said Cho-Cho-San, and at the door looking back, "Sayonara," and another tired smile.
She staggered a little as she went out.
"Alas, you also have seen her!" wailed the intuitive little maid, as she let her mistress in.
"An' she is more beautiful than the Sun-Goddess," answered Cho-Cho-San.
The maid knelt to take off her shoes.
"She—she thing me—jus' a—plaything."
She generously tried to smile at the maid, who was weeping. She touched her hair caressingly as she knelt.
"Don' weep for me, liddle maiden—account I disappoint—a liddle—disappoint—Don' weep for me. That liddle while ago you as' me to res'—peace—sleep," she said after a while, wearily. " Well, go 'way, an' I will—res'. Now I wish to res'—sleep. Long—long sleep. An' I pray you, loog,
