That evening, Sanshirō pondered Yojirō's disposition. He wondered if it was the natural product of life in Tōkyō. Next, he thought about going to Mineko for money. He was happy to have a reason to call on her. On the other hand, he didn't like asking her for money. He had never in his life borrowed money from anyone, much less a young lady. And she was not of independent means. She might have money at her disposal, but if she lent it privately, without the consent of her older brother, it would reflect quite poorly on both of them, and especially on her. Then again, given her knack for handling matters, she may have acted already to preclude such trouble. Anyway, he would go and see her. On seeing her, if things didn't feel right, he would decline. He could always defer his payment a bit and call for the money from home. -- At this, he left off on the business at hand. Visions of Mineko appeared in his mind's eye. Her face, her hands, her neck, her kimonos and sashes, arranged by his fancy into myriad forms. He envisioned her manner, and what she would say, when they met the next day. Ten, twenty scenarios played out before him. Sanshirō always rehearsed thus. Whenever he approached an appointment, he focused intently on what the other party might do. He never thought of himself, of his own facial expressions, of what he should say and how. Only later did he consider these things, often in the midst of regret.