It was warm enough to cause people to perspire lightly, and the stench of human waste and animal droppings was wafted along on the wind. "Is it you, good Mongaku?" Yomogi's sharp eyes picked out a shape moving through the crowds. Mongaku made his way through the throng in his worn sandals. He had neither his hat nor his pilgrim's staff. "Here we meet again!" "Yes, a third time." "Yes, I first met you, crying, on the road from Yamato, as you searched for your mistress, Tokiwa." "Then again early this month at Kiyomizu Temple on the Kannon's holy day." "Yes, by the grace of Buddha! And have you been at the chapel again in your mistress's stead?" "A special prayer to the Kannon, for which I must visit the chapel for one hundred days, and I've only begun." "Why do you always go in her place? What keeps your mistress from going herself?" "Because—" Yomogi began, giving Mongaku a reproachful look, "how can you expect me to answer such a question?" "How?—" "Of course, she's afraid to stir out of the house, even into her garden.
