The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

him from air-conditioning. It was almost more than an
old man could lift.
She also gave elaborate instructions for his visit to
the cottage. It seemed to Honda that she might be
apologizing for what she considered oversights on
her part.
“I must tell you that Mr. Tōru wears that one white
kimono like a bird its feathers. Miss Kinué is terribly
fond of it, and when I tried to take it off and wash it she
bit my finger, and so there it is still on him. Mr. Tōru is,
as you know, a very undemanding person, and it
doesn’t seem to bother him at all to wear that one
kimono day and night. You must be prepared for it.
And then, I don’t know quite how to say it, the maid
who takes care of the cottage says Miss Kinué vomits
a great deal and has strange eating habits. She
seems delighted that she should really be sick. I
wonder. Anyway, you must be prepared.”
She probably did not see how Honda’s eyes shone
at this oracle telling him his line would be cut off from
the eye of reason.
Pushing at his cane, Honda sat down on the
veranda. The door was open. He had been able to
see into the cottage from the garden.
“Well, Father,” said Kinué. “Good morning.”