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"You happy in Tokio?"

"Yes"

It was not the answer for which she had hoped and her eyes dropped at the curt monosyllable She put the cup back on the tray and folded her hands in her lap with a faint little sigh of disappoint pensively Craven knew instinctively that he had hurt her and hated hi a child But presently she looked up again and gazed at hi her forehead in unconscious i you very unhappy in Tokio," she said contritely

He laughed at the naive confession and the gloo lienial attitude

"What have you been doing while I ay?" he asked, crossing the room to look at a new kakemono on the wall

She flitted away silently and returned in a fewa s near to hiainst hi for his criticis at the painting It was a study of a solitary fir tree, growing at the edge of a cliff--wind-swept, rugged The high precipice on which it stood was only suggested and far below there was a hint of boundless ocean--foaripped attention--a lonely outpost, clinging doggedly to its jutting headland, rearing its head proudly in its isolation; the wind seenarled trunk showed rough and weather-beaten It was a poeth

At last Craven laid it down carefully, and gathering up the slender clasped hands, kissed thee was more to her than words The colour rushed to her cheeks and her eyes devoured his face alrily

"You like it?" she whispered wistfully

"Like it?" he echoed, "Gad! little girl, it's wonderful It's more than a fir tree--it's power, tenacity, independence I know that all your work is symbolical to you What does the treein her cheeks, her fingers gripping his

"It means--more to me than Japan," she murmured "More to me than life--it means--you," she added al her out on to the verandah, dropped into a big cane chair that was a concession to his western limbs