Читать книгу The Love of Azalea онлайн

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“Let us wait a little while,” said a round-faced, merry-eyed maid of fifteen, grasping the sleeves of girl friends.

Azalea was departing slowly when recalled by the raised voice of her friend. At a short distance from the other girls she paused and looked back inquiringly.

“Wait till they come out,” continued the speaker, Ume-san by name, “those beggars, and we will have some fun.”

“Oh, good!” agreed Koto, snapping her fan upon her hand; “we will find out what the white beast says to them.”

“Perhaps,” suggested Fuji, stretching herself—she was fat and indolent and the church seat was hard—“he pays them.”

Azalea looked interested.

“I wish,” said she wistfully, “he would pay me something.”

“Perhaps he will,” said Fuji, nodding her head slowly; “my honorable father says he is rich—very rich.”

“And my honorable father says so, too,” said Ume.

“Oh, all foreign devils are,” declared Koto conclusively.

“Well, but Matsuda Isami says he is not,” said Azalea. “And Matsuda knows surely.”

“Matsuda is jealous,” said Koto. “He wants to be always the richest. The gods despise avarice.”