The more he thought it over, the more the new assignment appealed to Kent. It required close thinking. He must move with the utmost caution lest suspicion be aroused which would close up every source of information instantly. He did not know just where to begin. He must proceed very . The difficulty began to fascinate him.
Finally he made up his mind that he might as well begin with old Viscount Kikuchi, the father of young Kikuchi of the Foreign Office, member of the Council, whom he had met through the son and whom he called on occasionally. The name of the Viscount appeared only seldom in the papers, but he was considered by those in the know to be the most brilliant mind in the council, the best informed in respect to international politics; some even insisted that he was the actual director of Japan's foreign policy. Kent had a great for him, a gentleman of the old school, who with his marvelously information with regard to the most intricate of politics of Europe, America and Asia, wide reading in several languages, still chose to preserve the manner and appearance, the admirable traditions of vanishing Japan. His finely features and long, white beard inspired a feeling of respect, almost , lent him the aspect of a Confucian of the old Chinese prints, heightened by the toga-like of his black silk kimono, unornamented save for the go mon, the family , a white circle with a conventional heraldic device, white on the field of black[Pg 140] on the back below the neck and on the sleeves. He valued the Viscount highly as a source of information and had often been pleasantly surprised at the frankness with which he gave out facts which Kent had not thought it possible to gain, the about petty matters so dear to the minds of Japanese officialdom.
Kent had not called for almost a month. It was quite natural to do so now. The Viscount occupied a vast room on the third floor of an office building near Hibiya, an odd rookery housing half a dozen of the named societies which have sprung up like mushrooms, in Japan, and which serve no apparent purpose except that of furnishing and vice-presidencies in legion to numerous honorable gentlemen. As he climbed upward he passed the doors of the Society for Inculcation of Spiritual Influences Among Workmen, the Foreign Policy Debating Club, the Bolivian-Japanese Friendship Society, with their office boys and idle secretaries smoking over hibachi,—a queer collection of purposelessness serving as a foil for the activities of the busy brain up above.
But as Kent climbed up the stairway, he was thinking of the coming interview, how he would lead off with the economic situation, stressing the decline of Japan's finances and industries. Gradually he would creep over to the question, try to bring in the disappointing lack of tax reduction in spite of the fact that armaments were being reduced; possibly he might even venture to refer to Bywater, if it seemed and natural—it would depend on how things developed. He would have to——
Suddenly, as if out by a flash of blinding light, the whole train of thoughts vanished, was completely. He found himself staring at[Pg 141] a face looking down at him from the landing above that his senses, dumbfounded them with an overwhelming of having been instantaneously, unexpectedly, brought face to face with the essence of beauty, flawless, , irradiating its towards him, as he advanced slowly, hesitatingly, . In the few moments which it took to mount the half dozen steps a whirl of thoughts raced through his brain, each one clear-cut enough, like the rapid succession of minute individual pictures of a cinema film, yet all melting into one another, into the one idea that here was the , a revelation—and yet it was not the instantaneous flash of love, the de foudre, desire of fulfillment of desire, possession; but rather the marvelous rapt wonder and delight at magnificent, brilliant beauty, almost, as one may be struck with at the unexpected revealment of a splendid landscape glimpsed suddenly through a in fog. In the half-light he was aware mainly of the eyes, deep, dark, brilliant against her pale face, framed by a cloud of black hair. It was as if he were advancing into their , as if it him.
As he stood in front of the table where she sat facing the stairs, he felt breathless, confused at the necessity for drab, commonplace action. He bowed ceremoniously, fished for his card case, conscious of the wonder in her eyes, pleased at her smile, irritated with the sense that he must be appearing like a fool, and still sensing delighted gratification in the feeling of her presence.
Was the Viscount in? Yes. She took his card, flitted behind a screen which separated her place from the main part of the great room. Yes, the Viscount would see him. He the whiteness of her teeth as she smiled. As he found a seat facing the Viscount,[Pg 142] he discovered with joy that he was able to look past the corner of the screen at the profile of the girl as she sat at her post facing the stairway.
He tried to pull his thoughts together for the interview. Hang it, it would be hard to think connectedly; the nicely arranged of his questions had flown from him. He experienced intense relief when he heard, as if from a distance, the words of the Viscount—he was extremely sorry; he was glad to see him, but it happened that he had an important engagement. He must leave in just a few minutes. Would not Kent come again soon, at almost any time. He should be glad to give him all the time he might wish.
What luck! Kent was glad at the heaven-sent granting of grace; he only hated the necessity of leaving, of tearing himself away from this place where he might sit and look at that girl, this revelation of beauty which had come upon him by the kind offices of fate.
He shook hands with the Viscount. Safely behind the screen, as he passed the girl, he bowed to her, with the ceremony as if she were a great lady of the aristocracy, emphasized it, wishing to convey to her, in some way, some indication of his desire to pay tribute to that inexpressible perfection. As he made the turn of the stairway he glanced back up at her. She was looking at him and smiled again. He thought he detected a glint of something in her eyes, understanding, gratification, something, anyway, which he might into the slightest possible spark of a beginning of acquaintance.
He crossed through Hibiya Park and found a bench where he might sit and get order into the confusion of his impressions. Love at first sight? No, that was not it; there was no feeling of , of desire to win, conquer, possess; rather an [Pg 143]overwhelming to be in her presence, to sense that feeling of being pleasurably suffused by the irradiation of pure, sheer beauty, as one might in warm, brilliant sunshine. It was an odd, undefinable sensation, defying logic or analysis. But why bother? He was wholly overcome with the impression that great good fortune had come upon him. He wanted to be near her, that was all. There was nothing to ponder over except the means as to how he might that.
Of course, he would have a chance to see her when he called on the Viscount. He would call soon, to-morrow—no, that would be Friday, the day for meeting of the Privy Council, and the Viscount would not be at his office—would not be at his office—— In a flash the inspiration came to him: why, that is just the time you must call, you fool; you'll have a chance to see her, to talk to her alone, to gain a little headway in acquaintance.
Through the day the thought kept constantly, insistingly. To-morrow. It with other thoughts. Well, let them go. He would think of her. But what did he want, anyway; what would it lead to? He knew distinctly that he was not seeking a , a love affair. She had not impressed him that way at all. Could one then not be on terms of just friendship with a girl, enjoying her beauty as one would that of a picture, a gorgeous temple, or a fine, rich brocade, only that? Still, the idea kept clamoring, if they became friends, intimate friends, would not, , time come when he would want to hold her hand, gather her, the whole glorious sum of her beauty, in his arms. He tried to push the thought away. That was not what he wanted. It was the idea of the , the purity of relation which fascinated him; to hold her tenderly, as one might a , fragile[Pg 144] flower, a dainty, vivid butterfly, untouched, untainted by touch of physical possession. Something, suggestive, insisting in crowding up from the depth of his mind, irritated him, like a mocking face grinning at him . Hang it all! He must know her, that was all there was to it. He would see her in the morning.
The following day, as he looked forward to the time when he might go to her, new, disturbing thoughts kept cropping up. It seemed so foolish, this suddenly being by what had seemed to him an of perfection of beauty. Such could not appear, did not appear in the persons of typists in Tokyo office buildings. The Japanese term "nido-bikuri" shot into his mind, the descriptive slang phrase, "twice surprised," referring to the delighted wonder of first sight of what appears to be perfection of beauty—the first surprise—which is dissipated by the second closer sight thereof, shattering the illusion—the second surprise. Probably he would find that she was, after all, but a pretty little typist, dainty, attractive and all that, but no more; that sober reality would cause this bubble of fancy to dissolve instantaneously into its plain suds on which he might but stare in foolish disillusionment.
He made up his mind to from his mind all idea of romance, to look upon her critically. If he had invested this girl with a of beauty created out of his own imagination, he would know it. He tried to prepare himself for certain disappointment; of course, he had been an . Still, as he climbed the stairs, his senses were aquiver with an irrepressible anxiety,—what if she should be real, after all? He peered eagerly up at her. Again the sense of beauty, the radiant of it, swept over him; but he put it off, forced himself to note that that dim half-light, [Pg 145]which her black hair set against the golden background of the great screen behind her on which refractions of light from beyond made a delicate and play of faint aureate coruscations, might be a nimbus which would fade away in the cold brightness of clear, white daylight.
Of course, he knew that she would tell him that Viscount Kikuchi was absent. He had planned for all that. Too bad! Might he not have a place for a moment where he might write him a note? She led him to the great desk in the big room. Now would be his chance—but before he could obtain a satisfactory look at her, she had disappeared. Hang it! He began to write his note. He had it all in his head, merely a polite word of regret, an assurance that his coming again so soon did not indicate that what he had in mind was at all important. He would call again. But he wrote slowly, hoping that she would come. Still he did not hear her until she was close beside him, with a tray with cigarettes and tea. She set it before him and stood facing him, a few feet distant, at his service. All this would give time. He slowly from the tiny, bowl-like cup, of the pale green, slightly fluid, took a cigarette, lit it. With the feeling of one who has placed a stake against the chance of a coin—he leaned back and looked at her.
Thank God, she was pretty, yes, even beautiful, with that great crown of soft black hair framing features delicately carved, finely-drawn crescent ; slender figure, but with the slightest suggestion of warm, soft curves under the closely clinging of the kimono. But it was the eyes which held him. He had often felt the appeal of the eyes of Japanese girls, with their appearance of intense blackness until very close view revealed the dark-brown shade, but in[Pg 146] this girl's eyes was a depth, a liquid sheen of , blackness which fascinated and held.
The feeling came to him that she was smiling. The mouth, features remained calm, unchanged, but it was as if she could convey with these ma............