“Look at me, my lord,” she cried. “Tell me, what do you see?”
“A maiden as beautiful as the sun-goddess and as good—”
“Nay, then, do not speak so. Look at me again, my lord. Have you then found such pleasure in my beauty that you have not even remarked my garments?”
“Your garments?”
Bewilderment was in his face.
“Yes. Are these the silks, my lord, worn by the ladies of your rank?”
“Nay, but though I cannot conceive why you should be garbed in cotton, yet I see no disgrace in the fact. Perchance the samurai Genji is honorably poor, and you are so courteous as to dress in homely garments while a guest of his honorable household.”
“I am not a guest of his household, my lord.”
“But—”
“I know it has been told you so. Nevertheless, this is the house of my father.”