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THREE:"From what I can learn," Frank wrote, "the women of Japan are better off than those of most other Eastern countries. They are not shut up in harems and never allowed to go about among people, as in Turkey; and they are not compelled to stay indoors and see nobody, as in many other parts of the world. They have their share of the work to do; but they are not compelled to do all of it, while their husbands are idle, as in some parts of Europe, and among the American Indians. The system of harems is not known here; or, at all events, if it is known, it is practised so little that we never hear anything about it. The Japanese women do not veil their faces, as the women of all Mohammedan countries are compelled to do; and they are free to go about among their friends, just as they would be if they were Americans. They blacken their teeth when they get married; but this custom is fast dying out since the foreigners came here, and probably in twenty years or so we shall not hear much about it. The married women dress their hair differently from the single ones; and when you know the ways of arranging it, you can know at once whether a woman is married or not. I suppose they[Pg 256] do this for the same reason that the women of America wear rings on their fingers, and let folks know if they are engaged or married or single. They remind me of what I have read about the Russian women, who wear their hair uncovered until they are married, and then tie it up in a net, or in a handkerchief. It is much better to have a sign of this sort than to have it in a ring, as the hair can be seen without any trouble, while you have to be a little impertinent sometimes to look at a lady's hand, and find out how her rings are.

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THREE:"O--oh! that's what it's for! that's what he meant by 'slang-whanging.' That's what it's for from first to last, no matter what it's for in between; and I know what it's for in between, too, and Ned Ferry knows. Did you see Ned Ferry take him under his protection? O--oh! they're two of one hell-scorched kind!" My companion stood gripping the bedpost and fumbling at his holster. I sank to the bed, facing him, expecting his rage to burn itself out in words, but when he began again his teeth were clenched. "You heard him tell Ned Ferry he knows why I'm here. It's true! he does know! he knows I'm here to protect a certain person from him and--"I failed to catch her reply. She spoke in a tone of pain and sunk her face in her hand. "Head ache?" I asked. "No." She straightened, and from under her coquettish hat bent upon me such a look as I had never seen. In her eyes, in her tightened lips, and in the lift of her head, was a whole history of hope, pride, pain, resolve, strife, bafflement and defiance. She could not have chosen to betray so much; she must have counted too fully on the shade of her hat-brim. The beautiful frown relaxed into a smile. "No," she repeated, "only an aching conscience. Ever have one?"

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