So it was that after Kin and her daughter were in bed that night, when Kin broached the subject, lowering her voice as though still constrained by Tomo’s presence and with many glances up at the second floor, she was if anything surprised that her daughter should reply in a somber voice.

‘Poor woman. You know, Mother – you say she’s got more distinguished since we saw her last, but to me it looks like the distinction that comes through suffering. That first moment when our door opened and she came in, I got quite a shock.’

‘Oh well, people on whom fortune smiles always have their share of hard times too,’ said Kin lightly. ‘Anyway, I’d like to help her find some girl with a pleasant nature. It seems her husband told her that if she couldn’t find a completely inexperienced girl a child geisha would do, just so long as she wasn’t spoiled …’

Fresh from the official prefectural residence whose rooms were hushed and chill like the priests’ quarters of some great temple, the child Etsuko was captivated by the second floor of this house that was so cheerful, with its broad view directly over the waters of the Sumida River and its sounds of creaking rudders and lapping waves that came to the ears all day long. When Toshi was busy, she would go out through the back gate onto the quay and watch the gentle motion of the water lapping at the stakes beneath her feet, or listen entranced to the stirring cries of the boatmen as they busily rowed their loaded vessels by. On one such occasion, Toshi’s pale face peered out through the bars of the window and she called:

‘Mind you don’t fall, Miss Etsuko.’ Today as usual Tomo was out with Kin.

‘I’m all right,’ Etsuko called, turning round with a smile. She was charming, with her regular features and oval face that looked so grown-up for its age, and the small topknot tied with its crimson cloth.

‘Come along,’ said Toshi, ‘I’ve got something nice for you.’

‘Coming,’ Etsuko replied obediently and walked over to the window, the long red-striped sleeves of her kimono fluttering in the breeze as she went. Beneath the bars of the window, twining around slender bamboo sticks, grew the five or six morning glories that Kin tended so lovingly, coaxing them carefully from the tiny plot of soil. Seen from outside, both Toshi’s face at the window and the sewing spread out on her lap seemed to Etsuko somehow different from when she saw them indoors. Toshi put a thin arm through the bars and dangled before Etsuko’s eyes the stuffed monkey of red silk that she held between her fingers.

‘Isn’t it pretty!’ Clinging to the bars with both hands, Etsuko gazed happily at the tiny monkey on its string, her smile so unclouded that Toshi reflected with a knowing nod to herself that the child did not miss its mother.