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Updated: May 5, 2025
Converging from various points in Tokyo but all timed to meet at the theater door exactly at five minutes to three, came the other guests of the party in 'rikshas provided by the Nesan. Mme. Fontaine was one of these.
"Oh, Komatsu, we will ruin our clothes," cried Miss Campbell in alarm. "You must take us somewhere until the rain is over." They were passing the high walls of a garden, the gate of which stood open. Without an instant's hesitation Komatsu turned in and the three 'rikshas raced up a broad walk toward a Japanese house at the end.
"Not muchly good in a renting-house. Komatsu take honorable saucepan," he explained. In his arms, beside the luncheon hamper, he bore also a beautiful bunch of lilies. As they climbed into their 'rikshas they were aware of the sound of clipping, and glancing toward the summer-house, beheld twelve old women cutting the grass with large shears.
Here all the 'rikshas drew up and the girls alighted with Miss Campbell, who was a little red in the face but determined to overlook the annoyance of orders disregarded. The front of the store was screened from the street by dark blue cotton curtains behind which was a roofed platform carpeted with matting. Here sat a group of clerks, each with his soroban or adding machine at his side.
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