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Updated: July 20, 2025
She had never been so glad of anything in her life as of the kind, astute, yellow face he presented to her distressed appeal. "Shima," she panted, "pay the cab; and if there's any one else there say that I'll call the police no, no, send him away." There was no question or hesitation in Shima's obedience.
And Clara's way of getting up, and standing there, with her gloves on, poised and expectant, as if she were only waiting an opportunity to take farewell, took on, in the light of her look, the fantastic appearance of a final departure. "I'm afraid," she mildly reminded them, "that Shima announced the carriage ten minutes ago." "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry!"
In the hall Shima presented her with a card. She looked at it with a quickening pulse. "Is he waiting?" "No, madam. Mr. Kerr has gone. He waited half an hour." Down went her spirits again. Yet surely after their last interview she ought not to be eager to meet him again. "In the morning," she thought, "and waited half an hour. How he must have wanted to see me!"
This was that self which she had obscurely cherished as no more real than a fairy; but at Kerr's acclamation it had proclaimed itself more real than flesh and blood, and Kerr himself the most real thing in all her life. Then what was Harry? The bland implacable pronouncement of Shima had summoned him up to stand beside Kerr more clearly than her own eyes could have shown him.
The leaping flames set her shadow dancing like a goblin. A bell rang, and the shadow and the flame gave a higher leap as if in welcome of what had arrived. She went to the library door. In the glooms and lights outside Shima was standing, and two messengers. It was odd that both should arrive at once. She stepped back and stood waiting with a quicker pulse.
"And I'd like to see four thousand acres in potatoes." "And we will," Billy rejoined with great positiveness. "It's us for the San Joaquin. We don't know what's in our country. No wonder we're out on the stoop." "You'll find lots of kings up there," Gunston related. "Yep Hong Lee they call him 'Big Jim, and Ah Pock, and Ah Whang, and then there's Shima, the Japanese potato king.
She relented. "Poor dear! You do look tired! Don't take that chair. It's more Louis Quinze than comfortable. Come into the library. And remember," she added, when Shima had set the decanter and glasses beside him, "you are to stay just twenty minutes." He took a sip of his drink and looked at her over the top of his glass. "I may have to stay longer if you want to hear about it."
Had Clara already snapped the trap of the law upon Kerr? And if she hadn't yet, what could be done to hold her off? Flora turned again to the telephone. Slowly she took down the receiver and gave into the bright mouthpiece of the instrument the number of her own house. Presently the voice of Shima spoke to her. Mrs. Britton had gone out to dinner.
But her relief was momentary, for instantly Shima was back again. "I gave him ten dollars, the cabman." Now she gasped indeed. "Oh, the cabman! But the other one!" For an instant Shima seemed to hesitate; glancing past her shoulder as if there was something that he doubted behind her. Then as she still hung on his answer he brought it out in a lowered voice. "Madam, there was no one else there."
He was heading for the stair with his little silver tray and upon it a note. Oh, impudence! How dared he give her the lie, by the hand of her own butler! She stood her ground, and Shima delivered the missive as if it were most usual to find one's mistress beflounced in peignoir and petticoats, hanging breathless over the baluster.
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