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She smiled thinly。 'Uh…uh。 There's too much you guys talk about that I have no interest in。'
'We'll cut that all out tonight。 Promise。〃
She laughed then。 'No； no。 I don't begrudge you that。 Bushido is important to you。〃
'It's part of our heritage。 We wouldn't be Japanese without it。 I'm not yet mat assimilated into Western culture … I'll never be … that I can forget the history of my people …' He paused； seeing her shudder； her eyes flutter closed。
'My people；' her words a ghostly echo。 'Bushido。 I shall die for my Emperor and my beloved homeland。' Tears welled from beneath her lowered lids； turning to minute rainbows。 Behind them were galaxies of pain。 'We survived the great firestorm in March' … her whispered words like the shouted cries of the dying … 'when the American armada dropped almost three…quarters of a million bombs filled with napalm； when two hundred thousand Japanese civilians were roasted or boiled alive； when half of Tokyo was cindered； when； the following morning； as you walked down the street； the wild wind took the charcoaled corpses and blew them away like dust。〃
'Ei； don't …'
'We moved out； then； away from the war； to Hiroshima in the south but； quite soon； my parents； terrified by all the rumours； packed me off to my grandparents who lived in the mountains。' She looked at his face without really seeing it。 'There was never enough food and slowly we began to the of starvation。 Oh； it was nothing very spectacular； merely a kind of all…pervading lassitude。 I would sit in the sun for hours unable to think of anything。 It took me hours to b my hair because my arms would hurt； keeping them lifted like that。 That was for me。 But for my mother and my father there was Hiroshima and the light that fell from the sky。' Her eyes focused and she looked at him steadily。 'What is there for me but shame and hurt？ What we did and what； in turn； was done to us。 My poor country。'
'That's all forgotten now；' he said。
'No； it's not。 And you； of all people； should understand that。 It's you and Vincent and Nick who talk constantly of the spirit of our country。 How can you celebrate the one without feeling shame at the other？ Memory is selective； not history。 We are what we are。 You can't arbitrarily excise the bad； pretend it never existed。 Nick doesn't do that； I know。 He remembers； he feels the hurt； still。 But I don't think you and Vincent do。'
He wanted to tell her of his recent thoughts but he found that he could not。 Not now； at least。 It was the wrong time； the wrong place； and he had a highly developed sense of these things。 Tonight； perhaps。 Tonight he would see that it all came down。 He watched the diffuse； artist's light on her satin…skinned face； her long slender neck； her slim pact body。 It was impossible to think of her as being forty…one； she did not look a day over thirty； even in harsh light。
It was just about two years since they had first met； a year since they had bee clandestine lovers … at least as far as those at the dojo were concerned； of course all their friends knew。 In that time she had never asked for more； never wanted to know about the future。 It was he who； lately； had felt the need for more。 And recently he had bee aware that； at least partially； the ending of his love affair with kenjutsu had been； simultaneously； the beginning of his love affair with Ei。 Now； it seemed to him with pristine logic； that there was nothing more important in life than being with her。 The dojo； which he had opened nearly five years ago； was well established and he was more than satisfied that it could run itself for a short while。 Time enough for a marriage and a long； leisurely honeymoon somewhere far away。 Paris； perhaps。 Yes； definitely Paris。 It was Ei's favourite city； he knew； and he had never been there。 All that remained was for him to ask her。 Tonight。
Would she say yes this time？ He suspected that she would and his heart fairly danced。
'Tonight；' he said。 'I'll be back by nine； ten if Vincent gets stuck in Island traffic on the way in。 But you have a key and some of your clothes are there。 e any time。 But bring champagne。 Dom Perignon。 I'll bring the caviar。'
It would have been easy for Eileen to ask what all this was for but she felt that it would spoil the moment。 There was； after all； plenty of time to find out what she already knew in her heart。
'All right；' she said； her eyes very large now。
He turned； abruptly remembering。 'I'd better get upstairs and prepare the bokken。 Soon Hideoshi will be through with the others and I want to be ready。'
Justine's eyes were pletely dry。 This was something new for her but it brought her no solace。 Not when the anxiety had e again； a fierce knot in her stomach； a pressure on her chest； constricting her breaking； refusing to go away。 There is nothing wrong； she repeated over and over to herself。 Nothing。 Absolutely nothing。 She shivered； feeling cold。 Her fingers were like ice。
She stood in the darkened living room of Nicholas's house； staring out at the mist and rain on this dismal Sunday。 Out ' there； somewhere； was the sea； curling endlessly； but the spiteful rain hid it from her as if it were withholding a bright toy on Christmas morning。 She thought about going out there； piercing the mist； finding the ocean for herself； but she lacked； at this moment； the necessary fortitude to brave the weather。
Oh； my God I Oh； my God！
She whirled from the sleeted window…pane； running blindly through the house； groping for the bathroom； and there； at last； she collapsed in front of the toilet； retching。
Her body shook and sweat stood out on her forehead； rolling down into her eyes in tiny stinging rivulets。
After an endless time； when she could no longer stand the stink； she reached out a hand to flush the toilet。 It seemed to take all the energy she possessed。 But； after that； she somehow found the strength to stand up and bend over the basin。
The cold running water fell on her face like bullets from a gun。 She shivered； opened her mouth to get the sour taste out。 She could not swallow。
Sitting on the edge of the porcelain bath； feeling the cool bar of it striking across her buttocks； she curled over； putting her head in her arms； her arms on her knees。
She rocked back and forth； thinking； I can't do it。 I can't。
It was her mind now that did the vomiting。 The history of the betrayals unfurling like a hated flag above her head； blotting out all other signs of life。 All her men。 Timothy； who had been the first； the high…school basketball coach。 I'll be gentle； Justine； and thrusting savagely into her over and over； enjoying the expression of pain on her face； her crying out into the perfect sterile symmetry of the darkened gym； watching his eyes burn with her instant's fear。 Then Jodie； the Harvard man with the laughing eyes and the cruel soul。 I want to be a surgeon； Justine … and already was。 Eddie； who was seeing her and his wife on alternate nights； there was nothing he wanted but them both。 And then； in San Francisco； there had been Chris。 They had e together； igniting like a bonfire； insatiable； insensate to everything and everyone around them。 Or was that only the way it had been with her？ She coul