In a few days’ time the pupils of the school were to give a recital at which the girl called Suga would dance ‘Plum Blossom in Spring,’ so on that day Tomo and Kin set off for the teacher’s house with Zenkō leading the way. On the pretext of going to see the recital, they were to take a covert look at the girl. The teacher’s house stood in a narrow alley tucked away among the houses of the wholesale merchants of Kokuchō. The front it presented to the street was narrow, but upstairs there was a stage, and when Tomo and the others went up a small girl was already dancing a piece called ‘Gorō’ to the accompaniment of the teacher’s samisen.

Seeing Zenkō, the teacher without pausing in her playing gave an almost imperceptible nod and smiled briefly, the dark hollow of her mouth with its black-dyed teeth throwing her lively-looking eyes into still greater prominence.

They had calculated the approximate time of their arrival so that Suga should be present, and the three of them glanced with affected unconcern around the girls who were jammed into the tiny room watching the stage. All of them wore cotton summer kimonos with sashes mostly of red, but one girl, sitting at the far side totally absorbed in the dancing, told them at once by her outstanding beauty that this was Suga. She sat still and correct, little affected by the heat it seemed, while the others about her busily plied their fans.

Her build was large for a girl of fifteen but the features were unmistakably those in the photographs. The soft white texture of the skin, like handmade paper, and the hair with its blue sheen that framed the pale face in almost oppressive profusion threw the eyebrows and eyes into even sharper prominence, giving them a dramatic beauty as though she were made up for the stage.

Tomo gazed at Suga with a sense almost of shock. The girl was beautiful, that was all: nothing in the expression remotely suggested any spiritual depths. But the impression of purity was undeniable. Her voice as she spoke to her companion was subdued ; she would say something with downcast gaze then listen to the other’s reply with eyes wide open in a way that was natural and unaffected.

When ‘Gorō’ came to an end, the teacher handed the samisen to her assistant and said, ‘You next, Suga,’ then rose and came over to where Tomo and the others were sitting.

The girl who rose to her feet and, lifting the hem of her kimono with both hands, walked towards the stage stooping modestly as she went, was indeed the girl whom Tomo’s gaze had singled out.

‘That’s her,’ said the teacher easily to Tomo and Kin as the first notes of the samisen broke the silence. ‘A really sweetnatured girl; I’m sure you’ll have no trouble at all in training her.’