All day he lay hidden from sight. Once he sent for Tō no Chūjō’s brother Kurōdo no Ben and gave him a formal message for the Emperor. The same excuse would serve for the Great Hall, and he sent a similar message there and to other houses where he might be expected.
At dusk Koremitsu came. The story of Genji’s pollution had turned all visitors from the door, and Koremitsu found his palace utterly deserted. ‘What happened?’ said Genji, summoning him, ‘you are sure that she is dead?’ and holding his sleeve before his face he wept. ‘All is over; of that there is no doubt,’ said Koremitsu, also in tears; ‘and since it is not possible for them to keep the body long, I have arranged with a very respectable aged priest who is my friend that the ceremony shall take place to-morrow, since to-morrow chances to be a good calendar day.’ ‘And what of her gentlewoman?’ asked Genji. ‘I fear she will not live,’ said Koremitsu. ‘She cries out that she must follow her mistress and this morning, had I not held her, she would have cast herself from a high rock. She threatened to tell the servants at my lady’s house, but I prevailed upon her to think the matter over quietly before she did this.’ ‘Poor thing,’ said Genji, ‘small wonder that she should be thus distracted. I too am feeling strangely disordered and do not know what will become of me.’ ‘Torment yourself no more,’ said Koremitsu. ‘All things happen as they must. Here is one who will handle this matter very prudently for you, and none shall be the wiser.’ ‘Happen as they must. You are right’ said Genji ‘and so I try to