He smiled so pleasantly that the lady became more complaisant.

"He may not be very long--" she commenced, but the youthful Jiro's voice
was again heard in fretful complaint.

"My baby is not well to-night," she explained.

"Poor little darling!" said Brett.

He was tempted to add: "What is its name?" but refrained.

"Won't you sit down?" said Mrs. Jiro. "As I was saying, my husband may not
be very long--"

She was fated not to complete that doubly accurate sentence, for at that
moment a key rattled in the outer door.

"Here he is," she announced; and Mr. Jiro entered.

It was fortunate that the gravity of his errand, no less than his power of
self-control, kept Brett from laughing. As it was, he smiled very broadly
when he greeted the master of the flat, for the little man was small even
for a Japanese.

The contrast between him and his helpmate was ludicrous. He could not
possibly kiss her unless she stooped, nor would his arms encircle her
shoulders.

"And how is my pretty _karasu_?" he asked, regarding his wife fondly.