“The duchess would prevent the marriage?” asked the artist, quietly.
“She is fairly mad to do so, artist, while I am equally determined to have it so. Now to which of us do you choose to lend yourself as a weapon?”
“Lady,” said Junzo, gravely, “there is a Western proverb: ‘Between two evils, choose the lesser.’ Tell me, which of you is the lesser evil?”
“Frankly, I confess of the two evils, Aoi or Fuji, I do not know which is the worse.”
Junzo frowned gloomily through the windows into the brightly lighted room, now quickly filling. A trumpet blast, full and clear, resounded somewhere in the palace.
“The noble Prince Komatzu. Note the change upon his face, artist. Love prints her fingers on one’s countenance as clearly as can be.”
“Put close your face against the barbarian pane. You see quite plainly?”
“Well, look your full, Sir Artist. It is the Princess Sado-ko who comes.”
He saw a glittering, spangled gown, low of neck and long of train. So long, indeed, it was that she who wore it tripped within it, and often lifted it in awkward style. Little high-heeled French slippers were upon the feet. The artist’s eyes turned from surveying her strange, gorgeous gown, to her face, and there for a long, horror-stricken moment they remained.
Her face was creamy tinted, the eyes long, the brows finely pencilled. Her tiny lips were tipped with rouge, while her rich, shining hair was crumpled in a strange and massed coiffure. Wisps of hair, not straight or silky, but crinkled and curled like the hair of the unintellectual races, strayed about the face and sometimes fell upon her eyes. Her head was held straightly and proudly, and she did not deign to look about her. Her long, bare neck was weighted down with pearls and other flashing gems. Long, sleek, black gloves shut out the beauty of her arms.
With eyes distended, Junzo gazed upon her, like one fascinated with some strange, gliding serpent. He did not hear the loud fanfare of trumpets signalling the entrance of the young Crown Prince, nor note the sudden reverent silence within, the ceasing of the stir of fans, the silencing of voice and movement. Through his bewildered mind he thought he heard the mocking laughter of the Lady Fuji-no. Then suddenly the band crashed out, and the imperial ball had opened.