The Decay of the Angel - Yukio Mishima

girlish curiosity in her eyes, and below them a quiet
smile. “Who might he have been?”
Honda saw that she wanted him to tell her of
Kiyoaki. Scrupulously polite, he recounted his
memories of Kiyoaki’s love and its sad conclusion.
The Abbess sat motionless through the long story,
a smile always on her lips. Occasionally she would
nod. She listened with care even as she gracefully
took the cold refreshments the old nun had brought in.
Calmly, without a touch of emotion, she said: “It has
been a most interesting story, but unfortunately I did
not know Mr. Matsugae. I fear you have confused me
with someone else.”
“But I believe that your name is Satoko Ayakura?”
He coughed in the urgency of his words.
“That was my lay name.”
“Then you must have known Kiyoaki.” He was
angry.
It had to be not forgetfulness but unabashed
prevarication. He knew that the Abbess had reasons
enough to pretend ignorance; but that a woman far
from the vulgar world, of her venerable state, should
lie thus openly gave grounds for doubting the depth of
her convictions. If she still carried with her all the
hypocrisy of that other world, then there must be
doubts about the validity of her conversion when she