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ago in Tokyo full of ardent and youthful hopes. When Tokio thought of Yoshiko's fate of having to return to her home town like this without producing a single item of art worth mentioning, he felt that it was only natural for her to feel unbearably sad.
"Since my wife has specially prepared lunch for you why don't you come and eat? Besides, we'll not be able to eat together for some time,"
"Sensei..." Yoshiko began to weep.
Tokio was also moved. He intensely examined himself as to whether he had done his best for her with kindness and responsibility as her mentor. He too felt forlorn enough to cry. He could find no words to assuage the sorrow of the girl he loved having to return home, there in the dimly-lit room among the scattered wicker suitcases, books, etc. Three rickshaws arrived at the house at three o'clock in the afternoon. The wicker suitcase together with a Chinese trunk and a carry-all that had been placed in the entrance hall were loaded into the vehicles by the rickshawmen. Yoshiko, with eyes puffy from crying, wore a light chestnut colored coat with a white ribbon tied in her hair. Yoshiko firmly held the hands of Tokio's wife, who came out to the gate to see them leave, and said, "Oku-san, goodby. I'll come back, I'll come back, I simply won't stay away."
"Sure, please do, please be sure to come back about a year from now."
Tokio's wife, her eyes filled with tears, squeezed Yoshiko's hands in return. A woman is susceptible and a feeling of compassion filled her heart.
