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Rh more and more restless. One evening when the delicate twilight was sprinkled with a few thin flakes of snow, he determined to set out for the Momozono palace. All day he had been more than usually preoccupied with thoughts of its occupant, and somehow he could not help feeling that she too would on this occasion prove less unyielding. Before starting, he came to take leave of Murasaki in the western wing. ‘I am sorry to say Princess Nyogo is very unwell,’ he said; ‘I must go and offer her my sympathy.’ She did not even look round, but went on playing with her little foster-child as though determined not to be interrupted. Evidently there was going to be trouble. ‘There has been something very strange in your manner lately,’ he said. ‘I am not conscious of having done anything to offend you. I thought we understood one another well enough for me to be able to spend a day or two now and then at the Emperor’s Palace without your taking offence. But perhaps it is something else?’ ‘I certainly understand you well enough,’ she answered, ‘to know that I must expect to put up with a great deal of suffering…’ and she sank back upon the divan, her face turned away from him. He could never bear to leave her thus, and knew he would be wretched every step of the way to Princess Nyogo’s house. But the hour was already late, and as he had promised beforehand that he would call there that evening, it was impossible to defer his departure.

Murasaki meanwhile lay on her couch, continually debating within herself whether this affair might not really have been going on for years past—perhaps ever since his return—without her having any suspicion of it. She went to the window. He was still dressed chiefly in