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"I imagine so."
"Could you tell me at what time they will be leaving?"
"Unfortunately, at present, I can't tell you that."
"In that case, would I be allowed to see Yoshiko-san--just for a minute?"
"I'm afraid that'll not be possible."
"Where is her father staying? I would like to have his address."
"That's also impossible, as I don't know whether or not they want me to give you their address."
Tanaka was left utterly helpless. He sat there for a while in silence and after bowing he left the house.
Shortly after Tanaka left individual lunch tables were set up in the eight-mat room. Tokio's wife had taken special pains in preparing the food and saké as this was to be a goodbye party. Tokio hoped to dine with them as a token of farewell. Unfortunately, Yoshiko persisted in saying that she did not want to eat. Tokio's wife tried to persuade her to join the party, but she did not come down. Tokio then went upstairs himself.
In her dimly-lit room, where only a shutter facing the east was open, Yoshiko's books, magazines, kimonoes, obis, bottles, a wicker suitcase, and a Chinese trunk were scattered all around leaving no space in which one could step. Yoshiko, whose eyes were swollen from crying, was arranging her baggage. The smell of dust hung in the air stinging the nostrils. How distressing and gloomy was the present situation as compared with the time when she had arrived three years
