"What is the address?" "Boy no must tell. He say letter send Tokyo Club." Ware's composure had been fiercely shaken that night and this obstacle in his path pricked him to the point of exasperation. With impatience he threw away his cigar and walked out through the cool, brilliant evening. But the glittering pageant of the prismatic streets inspired only a rising irritation. When a pedestrian jostled him, the elaborate bow of apology and ceremonial drawing-in of breath met with only a morose stare. He left the Bund and threaded the _Honcho-dori_--the "Main Street"--striving to curb his mood. Midway of its length was a jeweler's shop-window with a beautiful display of jewel-jade. In it was hung a sign which he read with a wry smile: "English Spoken: American Understood." Ware entered and handed the Japanese clerk his broken cigar-case. The counter was spread with irregular pieces of the green and pink stone, wrought with all the laborious cunning of the oriental lapidary. At his elbow a clerk was packing a jade bracelet into a tiny box for delivery. He wrapped and addressed it painstakingly with a little brush-- Esquire Philp Weare, Kasumiga-tani Cho, 36. Tokyo. In the street Ware smiled grimly as he entered the address in his note-book. He had always believed in his luck. To-morrow he would find Phil, and gain further enlightenment--incidentally on the matter of jade bracelets! His mouth set in contemptuous lines as he walked back to the hotel. CHAPTER XXXII THE WOMAN OF SOREK "And as to the foreigner named Philip Ware, that is all you know?" "That is all, Ishida-_San_," Haru answered. They stood in the cryptomeria shadows of Reinanzaka Hill, from which he had stepped to her side as she came from the Embassy gate. It was dark, for the moon was not yet risen, and the evening was very still. One sleepy _semi_ bubbled in the foliage and in the narrow street at the foot of the hill, with its glimmering _shoji_, she could hear the fairy tinkle of wind bells in the eaves. Such an ambush by her lover, unjustified, would have been a dire affront to the girl's rigid Japanese code of decorum. That he had seen Phil greet her at Mukojima the evening before had shamed her pride, and in speaking of it to-night he had seemed at first to lay a rude finger on her maiden dignity. But she had seen in an instant that his errand was inspired by neither anger nor jealousy. He had touched at once her instinct of the momentous.