when there comes borne to me the sound of her voice, humming as she sat alone:-- "The breezes through the pine trees moan, The dying torch burns low; Ah me! 'tis eerie all alone! Say, will he come or no?" So I gave a gentle rap on the back door, on hearing which she cried out: "Who's there? who's there?" Well, a shower was falling at the time. So I answered by singing:-- Who comes to see you Hana dear, Regardless of the soaking rain? And do your words, Who's there, who's there? Mean that you wait for lovers twain? to which Hana replied:-- "What a fine joke! well, who can tell? On such a dark and rainy night Who ventures out must love me well, And I, of course, must be polite, And say: Pray sir, pass this way." And, with these words, she loosened the ring and staple with a cling-a-ring, and pushed open the door with a crick-a-tick; and while the breeze from the bamboo blind poured towards me laden with the scent of flowers, out she comes to me, and, "At your service, sir," says she, "though I am but a poor country maid." So in we went, hand in hand, to the parlor. But yet her first question, "Who's there?" had left me so doubtful as to whether she might not be playing a double game, that I turned my back on her, and said crossly that I supposed she had been expecting a number of lovers, and that the thought quite spoiled my pleasure. But oh! what a darling Hana is! Coming to my side and clasping tight my hand, she whispered, saying: "If I do please you not, then from the first Better have said that I do please you not; But wherefore pledge your troth, and after turn Against me? Alas! alas!