Shirakawa was a man who even in his own home sat aloof and rarely allowed himself to smile. When he drank, he was not one to lose his dignity on a mere two or three cups of saké. Nor was this solely a desire not to show himself at a disadvantage before Tomo, for at all times his air was chaste and aloof, as though he were quite indifferent to the other sex. He was more fastidious about his appearance than the average woman; often he would complain of this and that to the man who came from the draper’s to see to their clothes, and the white socks he wore with Japanese dress had never been known to show a wrinkle.

When Suga got out his clothes and helped him on with them, or stood by him adjusting the mirror to a convenient angle as he shaved, or attended to any other of his personal needs, the cool neatness and youthfulness of his person gave a lift to Suga’s spirits that made her body move with a lightness it never had when she waited upon the mistress. Yet if asked if this meant that she loved Shirakawa, she would still have been unable to reply. For all the appreciation that Shirakawa lavished on her person as though on some rare jewel, a sense of having being robbed, of being captive, still lay heavy in Suga’s heart, so that her beauty, although she was not aware of it, was a shadowed beauty as of cherry blossoms on a cloudy day.

She stroked the kitten’s small white belly, ruffled the fur on its back, felt its tiny claws scratching at her hand, and suddenly hugged it so tightly to her that it raised a plaintive wail.

‘I’m the same as you, aren’t I?’ she sighed.

She knew that however a kitten might struggle it was no match for a human being. And intuitively she sensed the cruel, merciless soul that lay beneath Shirakawa’s exterior polish and refinement.

Something had happened while they had still been in Fukushima.

Among the young subordinates of Shirakawa who frequented the house there was a shortish man called Kazabaya who, whenever he passed Suga in the corridor, would brush seemingly unawares against her shoulder or arm, or stare unblinkingly into her face. One day at a saké party at which Kazabaya was sitting at the foot of the table, some turn in the conversation led him to ask Suga to show him her ring of inlaid gold.

Thinking nothing of it, Suga took off and showed him the ring, which he promptly pocketed and refused to return despite all her entreaties. Afraid to talk too loudly in front of others she let the matter drop, beside herself with fear at the thought of what would happen if Shirakawa should find out after Kazabaya had gone.