I pushed open the doors and admired the lovely garden, and sat down at the table to do a little work.
I wasn’t there more than fifteen or twenty minutes when something caught my eye. I looked up, out towards the garden, and I saw, sitting at the entrance to the door, draped in the corner, a very beautiful young Japanese woman, in a most lovely outfit.
I had read a lot about the customs of Japan, and I had an idea of why she was sent to my room. I thought, “This might be very interesting!”
She knew a little English. “Would you rike to see the garden?” she asked.
I put on the shoes that went with the yukata I was wearing, and we went out into the garden. She took my arm and showed me everything.
It turned out that because she knew a little English, the hotel manager thought I would like her to show me the garden — that’s all it was. I was a bit disappointed, of course, but this was a meeting of cultures, and I knew it was easy to get the wrong idea.