“Thank God,” he sighed; and within a quarter of an hour he was asleep.

He awoke in the small hours with that sick restless feeling on his chest, which he described as a conviction of sin.

“Good God!” he said aloud; “what a cad I’ve been!”

He realised that an unspoiled and gentle creature had paid him the greatest of all compliments by coming to him for advice in the extremity of her soul’s misery.  He had received her with silly badinage and cheap cynicism.

At breakfast he learned that things were much more serious than he had imagined, that Asako had actually left her husband and was living with her Japanese cousins.  What he had thought to be a lover’s quarrel, he now recognised to be the shipwreck of two lives.  With a kindly word he might have prevented this disaster.

He drove straight to the Fujinami mansion, at the risk of being late for the Requiem Mass.  He found two evil-eyed hooligans posted at the gate, who stopped his rickshaw, and, informing him that none of the Fujinami family were at home, seemed prepared to resist his entry with force.

During the reception of the Austrian Embassy which followed the Mass, an incident occurred which altered the whole set of the young diplomat’s thoughts, and, most surprisingly, sent him posting down to the Imperial Hotel to find Geoffrey Harrington, as one who has discovered a treasure and must share it with his friend.

The big Englishman was contemplating a whisky-and-soda in the hall of the hotel.  It was by no means the first of its series.  He gazed dully at Reggie.

“Thought you were at Chuzenji,” he said thickly.

“I had to come down for the special service for the Archduke Franz Ferdinand,” said Reggie, excitedly.  “They gave us a regular wake, champagne by the gallon!  Several of the corps diplomatique became inspired!  They saw visions and made prophesyings.  Von Falkenturm, the German military attache, was shouting out, ’We’ve got to fight.  We’re going to fight!  We don’t care who we fight!  Russia, France, England:  yes, the whole lot of them!’ The man was drunk, of course; but, after, all, in vino veritas.  The rest of the square-heads were getting very rattled, and at last they succeeded in suppressing Falkenturm.  But, I tell you, Geoffrey, it’s coming at last; it’s really coming!”

“What’s coming?”

“Why, the Great War.  Thank God, it’s coming!”

“Why thank God?”

“Because we’ve all become too artificial and beastly.  We want exterminating, and to start afresh.  We shall escape at last from women and drawing-rooms and silly gossip.  We shall become men.  It will give us all something to do and something to think about.”

“Yes,” echoed Geoffrey, “I wish I could get something to do.”

“You’ll get it all right.  I wish I were a soldier.  Are you going to stop in Japan much longer?”

“No—­going next week—­going home.”