Old Eguchi quietly closed his eyes as these thoughts came to him. It seemed a little strange that, among the three 'sleeping beauties' he had been with, the one tonight, the smallest and youngest, quite inexperienced, should have called them up. He took her in his arms, enveloped her. Until then he had avoided touching her. Drained the strength, she did not resist. She was pathetically slight. She may have felt Eguchi even from the depths of sleep. She closed her mouth. Her hips, thrust forward, came against him roughly.
What sort of life would she have, he wondered. Would it be a quiet and peaceful one, even though she achieved no great eminence? He hoped that she would find happiness for having given comfort to the old men here. He almost thought that, as in old legends, she was the incarnation of a Buddha. Where there not old stories in which prostitutes and courtesans were Buddha incarnate?
He took her loose hair lightly in his hand. He strove to quiet himself, seeking confession and repentance of his misdeeds. But it was the woman in his past, that floated into his mind. And what he remembered fondly had nothing to do with the length of his affairs with them, their beauty, their grace and intelligence. It had to do with such things as the remark the Kobe woman had made: 'I slept as if I were dead. I really slept as if I were dead.' It had to do with women who had lost themselves in his caresses, who had been frantic with pleasure. Was the pleasure less a matter of the depths of their affections than of their physical endowments? What would this girl be like when she was fully grown? He extended the arm that embraced her and stroked her back. But of course he had no way of knowing. When on his previous visit he had slept with the witchlike girl, he had asked himself how much of the depth and breadth of sex he had known in his sixty seven years, and he had felt the tought as his own senility. And it was strange that the small girl tonight seemed to bring sex back from the past. He touched his lips gently to her closed lips. There were no taste. They were dry. The fact that there was no taste seemed to improve them. He might never see her again. By the time the small lips were damp with the taste of sex, Eguchi might already be dead. The thought did not sadden him. Leaving her mouth, his lips brushed against her eyebrows and eyelashes. She moved her head slightly. Her forehead came against his eyes. His eyes were closed, and he closed them tighter.
Behind the closed eyes an endless succession of phantasms floated up and disappeared. Presently they began to take on a certain shape. A number of golden arrows flew near and passed on. At their tips were hyacinths of deep purple. At their tails were orchids of various colors. It seemed strange that at such speed the flowers did not fall. Eguchi opened his eyes. He had begun to doze off.
He had not yet taken the sleeping tablets. He looked at his watch, beside them. It was twelve thirty. He took them in his hand. But it seemed a pity to go to sleep tonight, when he felt none of the gloom and the loneliness of old age. The girl was breathing peacefully. Whatever she had taken or had an injection of, she seemed to be in no pain. Perhaps it was a very large dose of sleeping medicine, perhaps it was a light poison, Eguchi thought that he would like at least once to sink into such a deep sleep. Getting quietly out of bed, he went to the room next door. He pressed the button, thinking to demand of the woman the medicine the girl had been given. The bell rang on and on, informing him of the cold, inside and out. He was reluctant to ring too long, here in the secret house in the depths of the night. The region was a warm one, and with red leaves still clung to the branches. But, in a wind so faint that it was scarcely a wind at all, he could hear the rustle of fallen leaves in the garden.
The waves against the cliff were gentle. The place was like a haunted house in the lonely quiet. He shivered. He had come out in a cotton kimono.
Back in the secret room, the small girl's cheeks were flushed. The electric blanket was turned low, but she was young. He warmed himself against her, her back arched in the warmth. Her feet were exposed.
"You'll catch a cold." said Eguchi. He felt the great difference in their ages. It would have been good to take the small girl inside him.
"Did you hear me ring last night?" he asked as the woman of the house served him breakfast. "I wanted the medicine you gave her. I wanted to sleep like her."
"That is not permitted. It's dangerous for old people."
"You needn't to worry. I have a strong heart. And I wouldn't have any regrets if I went."
"You're asking a lot for someone who has been here three times."
"What is the most you can get by with in this house?"
She stared back at him, a faint smile on her lips.
4
The grey of the winter morning was by evening a cold drizzle. Inside the gate of the 'house of sleeping beauties', Eguchi noticed that the drizzle had become sleet. The usual woman closed and locked the gate behind him. He saw white dots in the light pointed at his feet. There was only a scattering of them. They were soft, and melted as they hit the flagstones.
"Be careful." said the woman. "The stones are wet." holding an umbrella for him, she tried to take his hand. The forbidding warmth from the middle aged hand seemed about to come through his glove.
"I'm all right." He shook her away. "I'm not so old yet that I need to be led by the hand."
"They're slippery." The fallen maple leaves had been not swept away. Some were withered and faded, but they glowed in the rain.
"Do you have them coming here half paralyzed? Do you have to lead them and hold them up?"
"You're not to ask about the others."
"But the winter must be dangerous for them. What would you do if one of them had a stroke or a heart attack?"
"That would be the end of things." she said coldly. "It might be paradise for the gentleman, of course."
"You wouldn't come through undamaged yourself."
"No." Whatever there might have been in the woman's past to account for such composture, there was no flicker of change in her expression.
The upstairs room was as usual, save that the village of the maple leaves had been changed for a snow scene. It too was without doubt a reproduction.
"You always give such short notice." she said as she made the usual good tea. "Didn't you like any of other three?"
"I like all three of them too well."
"Then you should let me know two or three days in advance which you want. You're very promiscuous."
"Is it promiscuous, even with a sleeping girl? She doesn't know a thing, It could be anyone."
"She may be asleep, but she's still flesh and blood."
"Do they ever ask what short of old man was with them?"
"They are absolutely forbidden so. That's the strict rule of the house, You needn't worry."
"I believe you suggested it wouldn't do to have a man too fond of one of yours girls. Do you remember? We spoke about promiscuousness, and you said to me exactly what I said to you tonight. We've changed places. Very odd. Is the woman in you beginning to show through?"