The Young Master felt a sense of déjà vu. He might well be one of those children, and the tiny garden filled with soft sunshine a corner of heaven where he used to play with Uncle Toshi. But unlike his uncle, this man did not appear to be especially engaged with the children. Though he smiled at them as they milled at his feet chattering among themselves, his expression was remote and hinted at sorrow. Unexpectedly, his appearance brought the word saint to the Young Master’s mind.
