 | Chapter XXII Miss Spring Morning |  |
22. Chapter XXII
At first he thought the room was empty, for there was no sign of Spring-morning. He called to her, but she did not answer, and he began opening and pushing the screens aside.
He found her doubled over in an agonizing little heap by the hombaku. From the drawers, she had been panically dragging her clothes, and they lay in a scattering mass about her now, a mute testimony of her intended flight.[13]
With an exclamation of pity, Jamison lifted her up into his arms. She put her two little clinched fists before her face, trying now to shield it from his kisses.
“Listen to me, dear. You are not to think I am the least bit angry with you. Why, I love you, and I've married you—married you before God and man. You are my wife—and I intend to care for you and protect you. There's
He had drawn the hands forcibly down, and was speaking the words against her hot but tearless little face.
She seemed only half conscious of those dear, enveloping arms, of the honorable compassionate heart, which despite its own deep hurt found it possible to forgive and love her. She pushed him from her peevishly.
“I—I not afraid of you, Eijin-san. I—I got still for you those love—those beautiful love lig you tell me is mos' bes' thing in theese worl'. But alas, you not t'ink 'bout that other t'ing—mos' big of all to Japanese. I got do my duty! I—I—'fraid—of—my hosban'!”
“You mean—”
“Omi!” she said in a whisper. “I vaery sorry say those to—you! I—”
It was almost as if she had struck him. His arms fell at his sides. He drew back from the girl and stared at her hard as if for the first time he was seeing clearly his Japanese wife.
“You do not regard me then as your husband, Spring- morning!”
A piteous, helpless look swept her face, and she threw out her hands to him passionately.
“I—I very sawry that I mek you those trobble! I lig' tell you I naever goin' forgit you, Eijin-san! Always you I got carry ad theese heart!”
Her words, her pleading face, so weak and suffering now, moved him. Yet, still dully, he felt a sense of wondering disillusionment gripping him, as he looked at her. Dimly, despite the love he still bore her, he recognized the pitiful frailty of the girl, her contemptible weakness, her unmoral[14] attitude to life—her deceit and treachery; and still in spite of this, he could call up no anger or bitterness against her.
“Listen to me again, Spring-morning,” he said gently. “You never were the wife of Omi. You merely went through a ceremony with him. But you married me according to the laws of my country and my church. It may be that this young man will attempt to invoke the laws of Japan to prove you are his wife, unless you do exactly what I tell you. You are not to be terrified by him. He promised me, of his own volition, if you will simply tell him that you do not wish to remain his wife, he will go away and never trouble us again—he will set you free—legally. He is waiting for you now— downstairs, and I am going to take you to him.”
“No, no!” she cried, suddenly terror-smitten. “Not here[15], not in your house, Eijin-san! I cannot speak to Omi— here.”
“But you must, dear—it's the only way out. Come—come, now try and be my brave little girl again.”
“No, no, Eijin-san—excusa-me-theese day. Some other time I—do lig those.”
“No, you must see him now. See, I will go with you. You need have no fear.”
But she broke away from him, as he tried to lead her from the room.
“Go then before me, Eijin-san. After liddle while—I— come.”
The odd verb and adverb forms in this paragraph (“agonizing,” “panically,” “scattering”) have been left standing from the original.
| Chapter XXII Miss Spring Morning | |