Her brother's voice behind her brought her down to earth suddenly.
"You've been a dillydallying long time."
She turned to the table with a faint smile. "Don't be a bear, Kiba. It's all very well for you. You have Udon to lather your chin and to wash your hands, but thanks to that silly Moegi, I have to look after myself."
Sir Kiba took his heels down leisurely from the second chair, discarded his cigarette and, replacing his eyeglasses into his eye with more than usual aggressiveness, looked at her with disapproval. "Are you going to swindle yourself out like that every evening for the benefit of Akatsuchi and the camel-drivers?"
"I do not propose to invite the worthy Akatsuchi to meals, and I am not in the habit of 'swindling myself out,' as you so charmingly put it, for any one's benefit. If you think I dress in camp to please you, my dear Kiba, you flatter yourself. I do it entirely to please myself. That explorer woman we met in Konohagakure that first year I began travelling with you explained to me the real moral and physical value of changing into comfortable, pretty clothes after a hard day in breeches and boots. You change yourself. What's the difference?"
"All the difference," he snapped. "There is no need for you to make yourself more attractive than you are already."
"Since when has it occurred to you that I am attractive? The goddess of the ancient ninja must have visited you when I was in bath, Kiba" she replied, with uplifted eyebrows, drumming impatiently with her fingers on the table.
"Don't evade the point of this argument. You know perfectly well that you are good-looking—too good-looking to carry through this absurd affair."
"Will you please tell me what you are driving at?" she asked quietly. But the dark brown eyes fixed on her brother's face were growing darker as she looked at him.
"I've been doing some hard thinking today, Hana. This tour you propose is impossible."
"Isn't it rather late in the day to find that out?" she interrupted sarcastically; but he ignored the interruption.