BOTCHAN
ed Clown as he glanced at me, and turning his face to other direction significantly, smiled devilishly. I felt sickened.
As it was none of my business whether it was a Madonna or a kodanna (young master), they let pose there any old way, but it was vulgar to feign assurance that one’s subject is in no danger of being understood so long as others did not know the subject. Clown claims himself as a Yedo kid. I thought that the person called Madonna was no other than a favorite geisha of Red Shirt. I should smile at the idea of his gazing at his tootsy-wootsy standing beneath a pine tree. It would be better if Clown would make an oil painting of the scene and exhibit it for the public.
“This will be about the best place.” So saying the boatman stopped rowing the boat and dropped an anchor.
“How deep is it?” asked Red Shirt, and was told about six fathoms.
–95–
