she found herself with her chin resting on her hands, listening to the chirping of the cicadas in the pine-grove outside the window.
One morning, very early in Autumn, her husband, before leaving the house for his office, was looking for a clean collar to wear, but unfortunately he found that all his collars had been sent to the laundry, and he had only one soiled one to put on. Being rather particular about his appearance, he hated having to wear soiled linen, and he became rather annoyed. As he finished dressing he turned to his wife and said rather cynically, “You had better not be always writing novels!” Without answering, she bowed and continued brushing his coat.
One night a few days later, her husband, after having read something in the evening paper about the food shortage, asked her if she could not curtail their monthly expenses a little. “You are not a mere school-girl any longer now, you know!” This last remark was made rather unkindly. At the moment she was busy embroidering a new neck-tie for him, and she answered in rather an absent-minded way. He therefore continued with some persistence, “As for that neck-tie, wouldn’t it be less expensive to buy a new one?” Again she hesitated to answer. After a while, getting no response, he ill-naturedly picked up a commercial magazine which lay near him, and began to read it.
His wife then switched off the light in their bedroom, which adjoined where they had been sitting. She remained in that room for a while, and then she spoke
