anour. This snub direct brought up the whole chain of
events, which Reggie had momentarily forgotten, or which were too
recent as yet to have assumed complete reality.

"I'm sorry, Geoffrey," he said, as he rose to go.

"Not at all," said Barrington, ignoring his friend's hand and turning
aside to order another drink.

Geoffrey had a letter in his pocket, received from his wife that
morning. It ran:--

"DEAR GEOFFREY,--I am very sorry. I cannot come back. It is
not only what has happened. I am Japanese. You are English.
You can never really love me. Our marriage was a mistake.
Everybody says so even Reggie Forsyth. I tried my best to want
to come back. I went to Reggie last night, and asked him what
actually happened. He says that our marriage was a mistake,
and that our coming to Japan was a mistake. So do I. I think
we might have been happy in England. I want you to divorce me.
It seems to be very easy in Japan. You only have to write a
letter, which Mr. Ito will give you. Then I can become quite
Japanese again, and Mr. Fujinami can take me back into his
family. Also you will be free to marry an English girl. But
don't have anything to do with Miss Smith. She is a very bad
girl. I shall never marry anybody else. My cousins are very
kind to me. It is much better for me to stay in Japan. Titine
said I was wrong to go away. Please give her fifty pounds from
me, and send her back to France, if she wants to go. I don't
think it is good for us to see each other. We only make
each other unhappy. Tanaka is here. I do not like him now.
Good-bye! Good-bye!

"Your loving,

"ASAKO."

From this letter Geoffrey understood that Reggie Forsyth also was
against him. The request for a divorce baffled him entirely. How could
he divorce his wife, when he had nothing against her? In answer, he
wrote another frantic appeal to her to return to him. There was no
answer.

Then he left Tokyo for Yokohama--it is only eighteen miles away--to
wait there until his boat started.

Thither he was pursued by Ito.

"I am sorry for you." The revolting little man always began his
discourse now with this exasperating phrase. "Mrs. Barrington would
like very much to obtain the divorce. She wishes very much to have her
name inscribed on family register of Fujinami house. If there is no
divorce, this is not possible."

"But," objected Geoffrey, "it is not