Saying this, he continued his way and straightway reached the entrance
of a court. Here the bamboo foliage was thick, and the breeze sighed
gently. This was the Hsiao Hsiang lodge. Pao-yue listlessly rambled in.
He saw a bamboo portiere hanging down to the ground. Stillness
prevailed. Not a human voice fell on the ear. He advanced as far as the
window. Noticing that a whiff of subtle scent stole softly through the
green gauze casement, Pao-yue applied his face closely against the frame
to peep in, but suddenly he caught the faint sound of a deep sigh and
the words: "Day after day my feelings slumber drowsily!" Upon
overhearing this exclamation, Pao-yue unconsciously began to feel a prey
to inward longings; but casting a second glance, he saw Tai-yue
stretching herself on the bed.

"Why is it," smiled Pao-yue, from outside the window, "that your feelings
day after day slumber drowsily?" So saying, he raised the portiere and
stepped in.

The consciousness that she had not been reticent about her feelings made
Tai-yue unwittingly flush scarlet. Taking hold of her sleeve, she
screened her face; and, turning her body round towards the inside, she
pretended to be fast asleep. Pao-yue drew near her. He was about to pull
her round when he saw Tai-yue's nurse enter the apartment, followed by
two matrons.

"Is Miss asleep?" they said. "If so, we'll ask her over, when she wakes
up."

As these words were being spoken, Tai-yue eagerly twisted herself round
and sat up. "Who's asleep?" she laughed.