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The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

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22<br />

SUPPOSE YOU keep company with her for a<br />

while. If you don’t like her you just have to say so.<br />

<strong>The</strong>re is no commitment.”<br />

Tōru went to dinner one night when summer<br />

vacation had begun. After dinner, upon a suggestion<br />

from her mo<strong>the</strong>r that it might be nice to show him her<br />

room, Momoko Hamanaka led him upstairs. It was a<br />

large Western room, girlish from corner to corner,<br />

Tōru’s first experience <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> utterly girlish. It was<br />

luxuriantly pink. <strong>The</strong>re was girlishness in every detail<br />

<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> wallpaper, <strong>the</strong> dolls, <strong>the</strong> accessories. <strong>The</strong>y<br />

quite brea<strong>the</strong>d a beguiling young charm. Tōru took a<br />

seat in an armchair. <strong>The</strong> thick multicolored cushion<br />

made sitting difficult.<br />

Momoko had a mature look, and yet <strong>the</strong>re could be<br />

no doubt that all <strong>the</strong>se details were <strong>of</strong> her own<br />

choosing. <strong>The</strong> cool pallor, somewhat blanched, was in<br />

keeping with old-fashioned features not too deeply<br />

carved. <strong>The</strong> solitary earnestness made her <strong>the</strong> only<br />

object at odds with <strong>the</strong> beguiling charm. Her beauty<br />

was too formally perfect; and as in <strong>the</strong> formal<br />

perfection <strong>of</strong> a paper crane it had in it something

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