Author: Yasunari KawabataISBN: 978-954-320-274-4
Price: 10.00 lv
The woman of the house warned him that he should not do anything running contrary to bon ton. Put a finger in the mouth of a sleeping girl, or something of the kind. On the floor was the room of eight tatamas , where they talked with the woman, and the next one, but there seemed to be no other rooms. Because of the very crowded space for the guest room on the lower floor the house could hardly be called an inn. There was no sign on the small gate outside either, probably because the secrecy of this house demanded it. Absolute silence reigned supreme in the house. After the small door was unlocked so that he could get in, old Eguchi (?) found no one else but the woman he was talking to now. He was coming for the first time and had not the slightest idea whether she was the owner or a maid. But, being a guest, it seemed he should rather not ask questions. The woman - tiny, over 40 years of age and with a very young voice - seemed to have deliberately worked out that quiet and even tone of voice. Her thin lips hardly opened at all while she was speaking, and she barely looked at her interlocutor. Her dark deep eyes discouraged his distrust, whereas she seemed to feel no distrust in him. She obviously felt to be in control of the situation. An iron kettle was simmering and the woman made some tea. Both the tea and the way in which she stewed it were surprisingly good for the place and the situation and everything aimed at making old Eguchi completely relax. A picture of a mountain village, warmed by the scarlet autumn leaves, by Gyokudo Kawai, probably a reproduction, was hanging in the decorative niche. There was nothing to suggest that the room was concealing any extraordinary secrets.
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