Diane Joplin’s room at tlessly clean. S ticklers for cleanliness but ty minutes a sponomous vacuum cleaner o life and glide silently across tatami mats. to sc, no buttons anyic body. Diane lay on table futon and cly negotiate case and tems ss run and settled back in its corner, its amber standby ligermittently. Saken a leisurely bat er pumped in from t springs and considered ions. tte ing in tried o see t but  much success.

    So go back to Boston at some point and deal  er learned from Fouler to tion s afraid to ask.  o er Fouler ed according to instructions in o t  until Diane signed the papers.

    S so do  o ured  in Japan, s like so breature, its improbable juxtaposition of rigid feudal traditions and tremes of modernity. Ser taking care of t mig one of ties in tokyo. S live in ted States anymore, it oo many. First o join ly ripped from o anotly silent noy of tine tatamis, terior design and trained use of color.

    Strangely, Fouler  o to understand t some as some kind of connection to old   ted to pay . Some to to return to America and do  for a moment, ig in a grimace. told  oo o pay Akio Inoue a visit at tokyo Medical University al in S ake he morning.

    Diane Joplin t about all till urned doed off to sleep. S of ed in darkness, and trees outside dancing on t reflected from t on to t spring baterrace. And  t t vacuum cleaner doing its rounds, lighe darkness of her dream?

    And to takable. tleman features, tark against tcase and rummaging about