ir car
and continue the rest of the way on foot.

"They are all going to see the show," Reggie explained to his party,
and he pointed to a line of high houses, which stood out above the low
native huts. It was a square block of building some hundreds of yards
long, quite foreign in character, having the appearance of factory
buildings, or of a barracks or workhouse.

"What a dismal-looking place!" said Asako.

"Yes," agreed Reggie, "but at night it is much brighter. It is all lit
up from top to bottom. It is called the Nightless City."

"What bad faces these people have!" said Asako, who was romantically
set on seeing evil everywhere, "Is it quite safe?"

"Oh yes," said their guide, "Japanese crowds are very orderly."

Indeed they suffered no inconvenience from the crowd beyond much
staring, an ordeal which awaits the foreigner in all corners of Tokyo.

They had reached a very narrow street, where raffish beer-shops were
doing a roaring trade. They caught a glimpse of dirty tablecloths and
powdered waitresses wearing skirts, aprons and lumpy shoes--all very
_haikara_. On the right hand they passed a little temple from whose
exiguous courtyard two stone foxes grinned maliciously, the temple of
the god Inari, who brings rich lovers to the girls who pray to him.

They passed through iron gates, like the gates of a park, where two
policemen were posted to regulate the traffic. Beyond was a single
line of cherry-trees in full bloom, a single wave of pinkish spray, a
hanging curtain of vapourous beauty, the subject of a thousand
poems, of a thousand allusions, licentious, delicate and trite,--the
cherry-blossoms of the Yoshiwara.

At a street corner stood a high white building plastered with golden
letters in Japanese and English--"Asahi Beer Hall."

"That is the place," said Yae, "let us get out of this crowd."

They found refuge among more dirty tablecloths, Europeanised
_mousmes_, and gaping guests. When Yae spoke to the girls in Japanese,
there was much bowing and hissing of the breath; and they were invited
upstairs on to the first floor where was another beer-hall, slightly
more exclusive-looking than the downstair Gambrinus. Here a table
and chairs were set for them in the embrasure of a bow-window, which,
protruding over the cross-roads, commanded an admirable view of the
converging streets.

"The procession won't be here for two hours more," said Yae, pouting
her displeasure.

"One always has to wait