Against the wall, numbers of books were piled up in disorder. Round about his red sandal-wood desk, which was placed near the sliding-door, and which was lighted by the rays of the afternoon sun, she saw newspapers, magazines, and sheets of copy-paper strewn everywhere in the same untidy confusion. Among all the things she saw, the only article which suggested the existence of his young wife was a koto-harp. It leaned against the wall in the alcove.
Nobu-ko’s inquisitive eyes wandered round the room for a minute or so taking in all her surroundings.
“Though we knew from your letter that you were coming, I never expected the pleasure of welcoming you today, Nobu-ko San,” he said, as he put a match to his cigarette. There was a look of deep affection in his eyes, and as he gazed at her, he added, “And how are you enjoying your new life in Osaka? Are you very happy in your new home?” As he chatted to her she began to feel conscious of her old love awakening in her again. During the previous two years she had managed to forget her old feelings of affection, and she had not corresponded with him all that time. As they now sat over the same brazier warming their hands, they talked of all kinds of things … the novel she had written, their mutual friends and other things which interested them both. They also drew comparisons between living in Tokyo and the life of Osaka. As they had not seen each other for such a very long time, they were at no loss for subjects to chat about. But by some natural and instinctive
