In response to my pro forma inquiries, Matsuo Noda declared he liked New York, had even lived here for a while once, honestly found it less hectic than Tokyo, usually stayed these days at the Japanese hotel down on Park but sometimes picked the Plaza when he needed to be closer to midtown. He adored La Grenouille and thought La Tulipe overpraised. When I pressed him, he declared his favorite Japanese place to dine was Nippon, over in the East Fifties (maybe he merely liked the name, but it was my pick as well).
After he had in turn solicited my own views on Sotheby's, a couple of the galleries down Madison, and various North Italian eateries, he suggested we go on upstairs and preview the lots.
All the while Miss Mori appeared to ignore us, standing there like a statue of some Shinto goddess, except for the occasional tug at her dark hair. Maybe she didn't give a damn about this obligatory small talk, thought it was old-fashioned. Or possibly she liked the idea of being the only one not to show a hand. And as Noda led the way up toward the exhibition rooms, she trailed behind like a dutiful Japanese woman--while we, naturally, continued to talk of everything except, God forbid, why we were there.
In the first room we were suddenly in my arena--samurai swords and battle gear.
"This is your special interest, is it not, Mr. Walton?" Noda smiled, then turned to admire the row of shining steel _tachi_, three-foot-long razors, now being watched over by a trio of nervous guards. Sotheby's didn't need some amateur Toshiro Mifune accidentally carving up the clientele. "I understand you have a notable collection yourself."
Easy, Walton. Play the game. I knew what a Japanese would expect in reply.
"Matter of fact, I've lucked onto a couple of items over the years." Then the standard disclaimers. My own painstaking collection was merely a grab bag of knickknacks, the fumbling mistakes of a dabbler, etc., etc.
Noda monitored this culturally correct blarney with satisfaction. "As it happens, Mr. Walton, I was in Nagoya last year when several of your pieces were on loan for the show at the Tokugawa Museum. I still recall certain ones, particularly that fine fifteenth-century katana, attributed to the Mizuno clan. Unusual steel. No date or mark of the swordsmith, but a remarkable piece all the same." A split-second pause. "Your reluctance to part with it was most understandable."