They walked together in silence a short way. The entire time, Sanshirō thought about Mineko. No doubt she'd had a privileged upbringing. In her family life, she enjoyed more freedom than most young ladies. She seemed at leisure to do as she pleased. The fact that she was walking beside him now, with no supervisory consent, was evidence enough of this. Without parents, and with her brother disposed to give her free reign, she could behave so. In the country such conduct would be scandalous. How would this young lady cope in Omitsu Miwata's shoes? Tōkyō was different from the country, far more open, and women here were generally less restrained. Even so, from Sanshirō's vantage they all seemed a little more old school than Mineko. Sanshirō understood, at last, Yojirō's reading of Mineko as an Ibsen type. He wasn't sure, though, if it was merely disregard for social convention, or if it went as far as deep-seated ideology.
By and by they reached the main Hongō thoroughfare. The two of them were walking together, yet each had no idea where the other was going. To this point they'd traversed three lanes. Without words, their feet had taken each turn in the same direction, as if their movements were coordinated in advance. As they approached the Yonchōme corner of the Hongō thoroughfare, Mineko asked, "Where are you going?"
"Where are you going?"
The two of them looked at each other. Sanshirō was all seriousness. Mineko could no longer suppress a smile, again revealing her white teeth.
"Come with me."
They turned at Yonchōme toward the roadcut. Fifty meters on was a large Western-style building on their right. Mineko stopped in front of it. From the folds of her sash, she produced an account book and seal. "Please," she said.
"What is it?"
"Take these in and make a withdrawal."