at supper, you know—perhaps even taking a nap now and then!"
"Then this is how Kanamaro 'finished his business'!" Mr. Colson observed. "And the 'very great cost' was probably what he had to pay for this."
"I suppose so. And he would not have believed it possible that he could get a piece of violet lacquer in any circumstances."
"But," Mr. Colson objected, "I still don't understand his indifference and lack of surprise when I told him of poor Deacon's death."
"I think that is very natural in such a man as Keigo Kanamaro. I don't profess to know a very great deal about Japan, but I know that a samurai of the old school was trained from infancy to look on death, whether his own or another's, with absolute indifference. They regarded it as a mere circumstance. Consider how cold-bloodedly their hari-kiri, their legalised suicide, was carried out!"
As they left the rooms and made for the street Mr. Colson said, "But now I know nothing of your pursuit of Castro."
Dorrington shrugged his shoulders. "There is little to say," he said. "I went to Cople-
