It resides amid the whispering leaves and the ethereal light of the Bamboo Forest of Arashiyama, and in the Zen-like calm of the city’s resident monkeys.
He was surprised by this absence of reproaches. He stood there all bewildered, the glass globe held arrested in mid-air. He did not understand this quiet sweetness.
He showed us into the sitting-room, where I noticed two large paintings on the wall, one of a grey-haired gentleman and the other of a lady with a sweet, gentle face.