your heart," responded Miyuki and she went on to tell, with all frankness and modesty, her story from beginning to end—how she had run away from home to save her chastity, how she had suffered and wandered, and how her constant weeping had led to blindness.
Every word she spoke struck upon Jirōzayémon's heart, awakening a sense of pity and gratitude. How great was his longing to tell her his name and take her to his heart! But in presence of his colleague such action was impossible.
"You have indeed shown yourself the most loyal of women, Asagao!" he exclaimed. "Surely your lover would rejoice, if he could but hear your story."
The night was wearing on. Miyuki, therefore, bade farewell to the samurai and rose in act to go, but she departed with great reluctance, with Jirōzayémon's kindly words still lingering in her ears. Takita also withdrew to his bedroom.
Jirōzayémon then hastily called the maid and bade her request the landlord to come at once and see him. While she was gone upon her errand he sought out a fan on which he wrote some inscription. He was proceeding to wrap up in
