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CHAPTER XIV

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the following morning kittrick dropped in to discuss the news. but there was little to discuss; all japan was unanimous in the belief that the official statement constituted but a very crudely contrived whitewash. "i think though that the foreign office might have summoned courage to challenge the general staff had it been able to get irrefutable proof that it engineered the deal to chang tse-lin," said kittrick. "but they failed to get it, so they were in fact quite wise in not making a charge which they could not back up. i think, though, that the premier made a mistake in issuing the statement over his own signature. now he has tarred himself with the same brush as the militarists, and if the world loses whatever confidence it gained in japan at the washington conference, japan has only herself to blame."

"i think——" began kent, but he was interrupted by a noise at the door, and the great nishimura strode in, radiant, flatulent with self-importance.

"hello, nishimura-san," kent waved him to a chair. "we were just talking about the premier's proclamation. what do you think of it?"

"bunk!" he dismissed the matter with a scornful sweep of the hand. "gentlemen, congratulate me; i'm going to be a candidate for the house of representatives."

"good for you; congratulations. what party will it be, seiyukai or kenseikai?"

"ah, that's a detail that hasn't been decided yet. we shall find out first which party seems to be the[pg 176] strongest in my native place where i'm going to run; we're a little uncertain yet. but the most important part, the financial arrangement, has all been fixed up, so probably, gentlemen, a short time from now you shall address me as the honorable nishimura, and, who knows, some day it may be his excellency nishimura. finally my talents are being recognized by the people that count. i know the game, and i shall go far—and i shan't forget my friends." he smiled effusively. "in fact, that's what i came in about, to see if you two gentlemen would care to join me in a little celebration, just us three. now, you know, it is not the common thing for us japanese gentlemen to go to the yoshiwara. it isn't done, at least not openly. we go to geisha houses when we want relaxation for 'the tired business man,' as you americans say. but the fact is, an old client of mine owns one of the first-class houses in the yoshiwara, and to tender his respects to me he has invited me to come with a few friends to his place—so i thought you might like to come."

"why, thanks, nishimura-san, i think i'd like to go." kent had never seen the yoshiwara. he had meant to see it, just as he had meant to see the imperial museum and the tombs of the forty-seven ronin, some day, ever postponing with the knowledge that he might go at any time. "what about you, kittrick?"

"sure i'll go. the yoshiwara isn't what it used to be, is it, nishimura-san?" the great man shook his head sadly. "still we shall enjoy the excellent hospitality of the coming premier of japan."

"who knows?" he smiled deprecatingly. "all right, gentlemen, i shall be here at seven with a car."

the car he brought must have been one of the largest in tokyo, an enormous thing with an interior [pg 177]resplendent with mirrors, cut-glass flower holders and manifold glittering nickel trimmings. "not a hired car, this," explained nishimura. "it belongs to the watanabe interests, my backers, who are now assisting me. step in."

they swept through tokyo, through a dimly lighted section of narrow streets, emerging presently into a quarter where great buildings, brilliantly lighted, presented a vivid contrast to the surrounding squalor. "here we are," announced nishimura. "the nightless city of wine, and song, and beautiful women. you have nothing like that in america."

"i'd like to take a look around before we go to your place," said kent. "do you mind?"

"i shall show you the place, and then you two can walk about a bit. i shall wait for you. i cannot well be seen in these streets, you know."

their destination was an enormous house, three-storied, gorgeous with elaborate carvings and gilt ornamentation. kittrick and kent set out down the wide street, bright in the blaze thrown out from the scintillating glare from the great buildings, all spotless, prosperous looking, glittering with light and tinsel. along the front of each house ran a great hall-like space. one entered and faced a show-window-like arrangement, where rows of large portraits of women, each bearing a name, appeared, set in variously arranged backgrounds of gilt screens, vases with flowers, heavy hangings of brocade, excellently executed silk scroll pictures. at each end of this was a small box, ludicrously like a pulpit, in which sat men, the doorkeepers, who drove the bargains with the guests. some sat silently, impassively suffering the crowds to flow by, stirred to action only when inquiries were made of them. others were busy, after the fashion of barkers at a fair, praising their wares, calling attention[pg 178] to the beauties displayed, to the cheap prices. in some houses huge open gateways allowed glimpses of gardens, meticulously arranged with stone lanterns, miniature shrines, grotesquely gnarled pine trees throwing their shadows in the soft light flooding the space from the windows above, each a delicately contrived, entrancing little fairyland, inviting, alluring.

they passed down narrower streets, mere alleys, where the lights were dim, the houses smaller, some displaying but three or four portraits, and where the barkers were more insistent. but throughout it all was noticeable the almost entire absence of women. here and there, especially in the smaller places, a painted face might be glimpsed for an instant between parted curtains, titters might be heard behind drawn shoji, and from above would come the strident whimper of samisen and high-pitched female voices; but that was all.

as they progressed, the sameness grew tiring; one became irritated at the monotony of these rows and rows of stiffly smiling portraits staring at one, all so curiously alike that soon they gave the impression of a vast composite picture.

"i don't see much in it," commented kent. "it seems to me drab, tedious. many of the settings are fine, beautiful even, but so much of it is sordid, these barkers and the pictures, the gross commercial hawking of women with as little feeling as if they were meat in a butcher shop. i can't see the temptation."

"you came too late," said kittrick. "you ought to have seen this place a few years ago, when the women were displayed, when these fronts faced right up to the street, showing the girls behind gilded bars. you could look down an entire street, a blaze of light and gorgeous color. here would be a dozen girls with[pg 179] high coiffures, whitened faces and painted lips, all clad alike in costly silks, gold and crimson, set against a background of heavy brocade and among massive, carved hibachi and mirrors; here, in the next place, would be a score of women in purple and silver, shimmering against hangings of soft-toned velvet; farther on would be another row, in dark blue and white, in the background marvelous carvings and dwarf pines and flowers, and so on, as far as eye could see, a kaleidoscope of glittering and glimmering gilt, and lacquer, and bronze, and constant, restless flittering of soft textures, blazing colors, riotously bewildering, all decking and displaying thousands of women for sale,—a truly barbaric phantasy of the orient, where, if one could forget the beastly commercialism of it all, one might at least have a picture, flamingly, prismatically dazzling eye and imagination. and then came the reformer. he pointed out, quite rightly, of course, that it was degrading to the great japanese nation to have its women displayed, like animals, in cages. so they put an end to that part of it, the beauty, the splendor, and did away with the only excuse that the yoshiwara ever had for existence; for then, by the gods, you might well have called it one of the seven wonders of the world."

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