Seven o’clock in the evening
At this moment of nightfall I feel almost at home in this corner of Japan , amidst the gardens of this suburb . I never have had such an impression before . September 16th . Seven o'clock in the evening . We shall not go down into Nagasaki tonight ; but , like good Japanese citizens , remain in our lofty suburb . In undress uniform we shall go , Yves and I , in a neighborly way , as far as the fencing-gallery , which is only two steps away , just above our villa , and almost abutting on our fresh and scented garden . The gallery is closed already , and a little mousko , seated at the door , explains , with many low bows , that we come too late , all the amateurs are gone ; we must come again tomorrow .