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When she thought that all these people were before her for the last time, she raised herself with an effort and looked fixedly at each one. And the ladies she carried on a rivalry. Sometimes, over the concerts and sports, there had even been, underneath the show of good manners, some jealousy and bitterness. Yet she loved them all; and now they stayed behind while she, all alone, set out for a world she didn't know.

"How horrible you think everyone is," said Murasaki laughing. "Even if she admired the Emperor, a girl such as she would never put herself forward. We women are really far less immodest than you suppose." "Possibly," said Genji. "But on the other hand the Emperor is far handsomer than you suppose, as you will admit when you have seen him."

The instruments they play, the beauty, not a match for the emotions inside. The torch-songs of cold autumn breezes; Genji hearing flutes while standing outside the court. Gossip about the pretty but loud Omi. Tamakatsura, with more intimate feelings for Genji. Though it's Kashiwagi who is openly in love with her.

The first day of spring; the women at court provide Genji the concert he needs. Utsutsemi, now a nun, blushing; the lady from the Village of Falling Flowers with her touches of youth; Tamakatsura radiant, though more like a daughter. Akashi's room. Genji spies upon her copies of Chinese poems, her own. She surprises him, enters with unease. They spend the night together. Disappointment heard throughout the palace.