It was after midnight when he reached the house, but Jun-san was waiting for him. She never retired to her own little house in the garden until the men were safely home.
"You are late, Kent-san." She smiled, stepped closer, peered at him. "Ah, so you have found one at last. The other night it was a rose, and now---- So she is Japanese." The smile left her face. "Kent-san," she took his hand in her earnestness, "Kent-san, it is so seldom that happiness comes from this, a foreign man and a Japanese girl, but, if you must go on, be kind to her, please."
She slipped away. He shivered a little. Poor girl; it was distressing, this air of tragedy which always seemed to cling like a shadow to this beautiful, lovable woman, uncomplaining, with her soft dark eyes. He could envy Karsten to have the love of a woman like that. He felt lonely. Life was drab, tedious, selfish. Would he ever gain such love from some woman. So Jun-san thought he was traveling on that road. The rose, yes, but what could she have seen to-night? Women were always like that, even Jun-san, ever imagining.
He went to his room, began to undress. A glimpse in the mirror made him look more closely,--a white smudge on his cheek. Ah, that was it, a smear of _o shiroi_, powder from the cheek of the Yoshiwara girl. He wiped it away hurriedly. Damn it, if he should enter into love relations with some Japanese girl, it would not be one like that. The thought of Adachi-san came to him. Yes, a girl such as she; still, his mind insisted, this was not the sort of relation he wished to enter into with her. And if, after all, he did, what would come of it, how would it end? He thought of Jun-san's words, "so seldom happiness comes from this." How devilishly complicated life was, a Scylla or Charybdis; did one steer clear of one rock one banged into the other. He turned off the light impatiently and climbed into bed, but thoughts would not leave him, the oppressive, stifling atmosphere of sorrow which lay broodingly over the household--why could not happiness come from a relationship like this?
With the approach of Saturday Kent became impatient. The feeling of being alone, that there was in the whole world no one who was really interested in his affairs, who cared whether he lived or died, took hold of him and he chafed under a desire for some one who would care, for the close touch, the intimate relationship which is possible only between man and woman. That was what he wished from Adachi-san. He thought it out carefully, made certain that he would eschew all semblance of dalliance. Jun-san was right, what could such lead to but sorrow, heartbreak. But he wanted her friendship, a sort of brother and sister relationship. Even though it was common to scoff at platonic intimacy, such must be possible, and in this case, with the definite absence of passion, erotic desire, it surely must be possible if ever. So it should be thus; he would regard her as a fair flower, attaining his enjoyment from being near her, allowing himself to be suffused by the effulgence of her beauty, disdaining to break the charm of purity and delicacy by soiling contact of too ardent hands.