explanation, and it was the beginning of a sympathy between them
that had developed to an unusual degree and lasted until her
death, ten years ago. She had hugged him tightly and he had always
remembered, without fully understanding in his childhood, the half
incredulous, half regretful whisper in his ear, "Has it come to
you so soon, little son?"

The hereditary instinct, born thus, had grown with his own growth
from boyhood to manhood until it was an integral part of himself.

And the lure of the eastern nights--more marvellous and compelling
even than in colder climates--had become almost an obsession.

Little O Hara San, firm believer in all devils, djinns and
midnight workers of mischief, had grown accustomed to the
eccentricities of the man who was her whole world. If it pleased
him to spend long hours of the night sitting on the verandah when
ordinary folk were sensibly shut up in their houses she did not
care so long as she might be with him. No demon in Japan could
harm her while she lay securely in his strong arms. And if
unpleasant shadows crept uncomfortably near the little house she
resolutely turned her head and hiding her face against him shut
out all disagreeable sights and slept peacefully, confident in his
ability to keep far from her all danger. Her love was boundless
and her trust absolute. But tonight there was no thought of sleep.
For three long weeks she had not seen him and during that time for
her the sun had ceased to shine. She had counted each hour until
his return and she could not waste the precious moments now that
he had really come. The djinns and devils in the garden might
present themselves in all their hideousness if it so pleased them