The Geisha girls trotted out on the floor. They had honored their audience this night by wearing their most elaborate and colorful costumes. The music beat out a strange dreamy tune. The tiny dancers with their placid, bland little faces might well have been animated flowers. Their shuffling short steps gave the effect of gliding as they gyrated, weaving and interweaving in a series of rhythmic movements as old as time—movements that had been premeditated and practiced to the last turn. “What a kick the crew is getting out of all this,” whispered David. “They will all go home and talk darkly about having seen the Geisha girls dancing and they will say, ‘Boy, it was some dance, believe me!’ I wish you could have seen the other dance at the dinner. That was just plain fierce.” The music stopped and the little dancers trotted out. Next came a troupe of Japanese jugglers, who whirled gaily painted barrels, gold chairs and small boys about their heads with an abandon that made Dulcie gasp and the crew of the Moonbeam roar with approval. Next came a tight-rope act, which included such difficult and daring feats that the audience was spellbound. “Makes me feel as though I was at home at Keith’s, only it’s a thousand times better than Keith’s ever thought of being,” whispered David. After the tight-rope walkers the Geishas were to dance again, and then more juggling and a sword dance, but Dulcie said, “I’ve seen enough, David. I’m tired, after all. Can’t we go?” “Same here,” responded David. “It has been a whirligig of a day. Ask your father if we can’t be excused.” “That’s all right,” Mr. Hammond agreed. “I’ll explain to the Master of Ceremonies. Go out as quietly as you can.” Prince Hata accompanied them to the car, where Bill lounged at the wheel. “Perhaps a little drive under our Japanese moon would make more happiness for you after your strenuous day,” suggested the Prince, as he said good-night. “That would be fine,” declared David. “Just for a little while.” The Prince spoke to Bill. As they drove away, Dulcie said, “How nice and friendly they are to each other! Not a bit haughty. Did you notice what a friendly sort of understanding smile Prince Hata gave Bill?” “No; but they are all polite.” “They never seem to scrap,” said Dulcie. “It is beautiful.” “Uh-uh! They never do seem to scrap but, my child, these angel beings can fight like demons. All this politeness, centuries old, has made them value each other. That’s simply psychological. They are utterly loyal to Japan for what it is, what it has been, and what it will be. However, they are struggling against the terrible handicap of lack of territory, and the only possible way for them to get it is through conquest. The sea won’t give it to them, and other nations naturally won’t donate it. So if they want it, they have got to fight for it. And as they are not afraid to die, why, when they do fight, Miss Hammond, they just wade right in.”