with the healthy colour of youth, and as she talked of one thing and another, she did not forget to mention such trifling things as her fowls.
Shunkichi, with a cigarette between his lips, sat gazing contentedly at the two young women, but there was something cynical in his smile.
When the maid-servant came back, she came into the room and handed him some post-cards. Taking them from her, he went over to his desk, and sitting down, he commenced to write letters. Teru-ko had an uneasy feeling regarding her maid having been absent when her sister arrived, and she quietly remarked:
“Was there no one here to welcome you when you arrived today, my dear?
“Only Mr. Shun,” was Nobu-ko’s reply. She had a feeling that she was endeavouring to feign indifference. When Shunkichi heard this, he remarked with humour, “Thank your husband, my dear. It was he who made that tea!”
Later in the day the three young people sat down to supper. Teru-ko told her that the eggs which had been prepared for their meal had been laid by her own fowls.
“Human life consists only of plundering, doesn’t it? From these eggs to …” said her husband in an argumentative tone of voice, as he offered a glass of wine to Nobu-ko. He seemed to have forgotten that eggs were his favourite kinds of food. Teru-ko was very amused at his witty remark, and laughed.
As Nobu-ko sat there she could not help thinking
