d I lose sight of her--for
when this may happen is uncertain--what shall I do?" He at last
decided to carry her off secretly to his own mansion in Nijio. True,
if this became known it would be an awkward business; but such are
love affairs; always some dangers to be risked! He therefore fondly
entreated her to accompany him to some place where they could be
freer.

Her answer, however, was "That such a proposal on his part only
alarmed her." Genji was amused at her girlish mode of expression, and
earnestly said, "Which of us is a fox?[55] I don't know, but anyhow be
persuaded by me." And after repeated conversations of the same nature,
she at last half-consented. He had much doubt of the propriety of
inducing her to take this step, nevertheless her final compliance
flattered his vanity. He recollected very well the Tokonatz (Pinks)
which To-no-Chiujio spoke of, but never betrayed that he had any
knowledge of that circumstance.

It was on the evening of the 15th of August when they were together.
The moonlight streamed through the crevices of the broken wall. To
Genji such a scene was novel and peculiar. The dawn at length began to
break, and from the surrounding houses the voices of the farmers might
be heard talking.

One remarked, "How cool it is." Another, "There is not much hope for
our crops this year." "My carrying business I do not expect to
answer," responded the first speaker. "But are our neighbors
listening!" Conversing in this way they proceeded to their work.

Had the lady been one to whom surrounding appearances were important,
she might have felt disturbed, but she was far from being so, and
seemed as if no outward circumstances could trouble her equanimity,
which appeared to him an admirable trait. The noise of the threshing
of the corn came indistinctly to their ears like distant thunder. The
beating of the bleacher's hammer was also heard faintly from afar off.

They were in the front of the house. They opened the window and looked
out on the dawn. In the small garden before their eyes was a pretty
bamboo grove; their leaves, wet with dew, shone brilliantly, even as
bright as in the gardens of the palace. The cricket sang cheerfully in
the old walls as if it was at their very ears, and the flight of wild
geese in the air rustled overhead. Everything spoke of rural scenes
and business, different from what Genji was in the habit of seeing and
hearing round him.

To him all these sights and sounds