‘Yes,’ she replied, but her eyes were lively and unclouded as she added, ‘but then I’ve got Yoshi.’

‘Yes, of course – there’s Yoshi, isn’t there,’ said Toshi with a nod. ‘Is your mummy very busy even when she’s at home?’

‘Yes,’ said Etsuko in the same clear voice as before. ‘People come to see us.’

‘Dear me! And is your daddy out a lot?’

‘Yes, he’s at the prefectural office all day. And at night he’s often invited out, or people come to see him, so quite often I don’t see him once all day.’

‘I see … And how many maids do you have?’

‘Three. Yoshi, Seki, and Kimi. And then we have a steward and a houseboy.’

‘Well, you do have a big family, don’t you? It’s no wonder Mummy’s so busy.’

Toshi stopped her sewing and a smile spread over her face. She was picturing to herself the woman that Tomo would find during her present stay and take home with her, and imagining the changes that she might bring to Etsuko’s life.

Around the same time that Toshi and Etsuko were talking to each other, Tomo and Kin were engaged in conversation with a male gesha called Zenkō on the second floor of a riverside teahouse in the geisha district of Yanagibashi.

Kin was treating Tomo as though she were her mistress and effacing herself completely. Zenkō, a dapper man who having started life in the family of a retainer of the Shogun knew how to relax without becoming ingratiating, spoke to his old acquaintance Kin in a tone free of the mannerisms of his trade often associated.

‘Well now, from what I’ve just heard, I should say it will be quite difficult. Still, we have four or five quite personable girls coming in a little while.’

He twirled his slender silver pipe between his fingers as though not quite sure what to do with it. Privately, he was wondering with disgust just what part of the provinces had produced the kind of man who would have his legal wife search for a concubine for him. It confirmed his dislike for provincials in general, yet as he sat facing Tomo he sensed something in her manner that seemed somehow to match the pride in tradition still surviving in himself, something that was neither proud nor ingratiating, that was not in the slightest out of the ordinary yet suggested an old-fashioned formality that could not be sneered at or made fun of.

‘After all, even with someone we might think is all right, you never can tell a gentleman’s taste, can you?’ said Kin, a ready talker, glancing at Tomo as she returned to Zenkō the cup that he had filled with saké for her.