powder, and their mouths painted heart-shape in
vivid carmine. Withal they have an undeniable look of good breeding that
strongly impresses us, notwithstanding the intrinsic differences of race
and acquired notions.

They scanned Chrysantheme with a look of obvious scorn, although her
costume was as ladylike as their own. For my part, I could not take my
eyes off these two creatures; they captivated me like incomprehensible
things that one never had seen before. Their fragile bodies,
outlandishly graceful in posture, are lost in stiff materials and
redundant sashes, of which the ends droop like tired wings. They make me
think, I know not why, of great rare insects; the extraordinary patterns
on their garments have something of the dark motley of night-moths.
Above all, I ponder over the mystery of their tiny slits of eyes,
drawn back and up so far that the tight-drawn lids can hardly open; the
mystery of their expression, which seems to denote inner thoughts of a
silly, vague, complacent absurdity, a world of ideas absolutely closed
to ourselves. And I think as I gaze at them: "How far we are from this
Japanese people! how totally dissimilar are our races!"

We are compelled to let several English sailors pass before us, decked
out in their white drill clothes, fresh, fat, and pink, like little
sugar figures, who attitudinize in a sheepish manner around the shafts
of the columns.

At last it is our turn; Chrysantheme settles herself slowly in a very
affected style, turning in the points of her toes as much as possible,
according to the fashion.

And on the negative shown to us we look like a supremely ridiculous
little family drawn up in a line by a common photographer at a fair.

CHAPTER XLVI. GRAVE SUSPICIONS

September 13th.

Tonight Yves is off duty three hours earlier than I; occasionally this
happens, according to the arrangement of the watches. At those times he
lands first, and goes up to wait for me at Diou-djen-dji.

From the deck I can see him through my glass, climbing up the green
mountain-path; he walks with a brisk, rapid step, almost running; what a
hurry he seems in to rejoin little Chrysantheme!

When I arrive, about nine o'clock, I find him seated on the floor, in
the middle of my rooms, with naked torso (this is a sufficiently
proper costume for private life here, I admit). Around him are grouped
Chrysantheme, Oyouki, and Mademoiselle Dede the maid, all eagerly
rubbing his back with