She gave them both to him. They were deliciously pretty; but the consul was embarrassed by his possession of them. She began slowly to withdraw them, and then he let them go with regret.
"I beg your august pardon. I jus' thinging in the inside me, an' speaking with the outside. Tha' 's not nize. You don' keer nothing—'bout—that—those?"
"What?"
He thought she meant the hands and perhaps she did.
"Jus" those—liddle—story."
"Yes, I do," declared the consul, with some relief; "it is a charming story." And it was, for Cho-Cho-San's eyes and hands took part in its telling as well as her lips.
"You mean—you lig hear more?"
"Yes." She reflected an. instant. "I thing there is no more. Jus'—yaes, jus' after while I naever git frighten' no more—no madder how close, nor how he hol' my hand."
"But then you—I beg pardon you were married? I think you said so?"
"Oh, yaes," she replied, as if that had made little difference in their situation; "I marry with him."
