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She fanned herself. “This about the Cloudburst and the Clouds and the Rain or the Fire and the Torrent, as we sometimes call it, is very Japanese, Anjin-san. Very important to be Japanese in pillow things, neh?”

To her relief, he grinned and bowed to her like a courtier. “Yes. Very. I’m Japanese, Mariko-san. Honto!”

Kiku returned with the silk-lined case. She opened it and took out a substantial life-size penis made of ivory, and another made of softer material, elastic, that Blackthorne had never seen before. Carelessly she set them aside.

“These of course, are ordinary harigata, Anjin-san,” Mariko said unconcernedly, her eyes glued on the other objects.

“Is that a fact?” Blackthorne said, not knowing what else to say. “Mother of God!”

“But it’s just an ordinary harigata, Anjin-san. Surely your women have them!”

“Certainly not! No, they don’t,” he added, trying to remember about the humor.

Mariko couldn’t believe it. She explained to Kiku, who was equally surprised. Kiku spoke at length, Mariko agreeing.

“Kiku-san says that’s very strange. I must agree, Anjin-san. Here almost every girl uses one for ordinary relief without a second thought. How else can a girl stay healthy when she’s restricted where a man is not? Are you sure, Anjin-san? You’re not teasing?”

“No—I’m, er, sure our women don’t have them. That would be—Jesus, that—well, no, we—they—don’t have them.”

“Without them life must be very difficult. We have a saying that a harigata’s like a man but better because it’s exactly like his best part but without his worst parts. Neh? And it’s also better because all men aren’t—don’t have a sufficiency, as harigatas do. Also they’re devoted, Anjin-san, and they’ll never tire of you, like a man does. And too, they can be as rough or smooth—Anjin-san, you promised, remember? With humor!”

“You’re right!” Blackthorne grinned. “By God, you’re right. Please excuse me.” He picked up the harigata and studied it closely, whistling tonelessly. Then he held it up. “You were saying, Teacher-san? It can be rough?”

“Yes,” she said cheerfully. “It can be as rough or as smooth as you desire, and harigatas very particularly have far more endurance than any man and they never wear out!”

“Oh, that’s a point!”

“Yes. Don’t forget, not every woman is fortunate enough to belong to a virile man. Without one of these to help release ordinary passions and normal needs, an ordinary woman soon becomes poisoned in body, and that will certainly very soon destroy her harmony, thus hurt her and those around her. Women don’t have the freedom men have—to a greater or lesser degree, and rightly, neh? The world belongs to men, and rightly, neh?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “And no.”

“I pity your women, so sorry. They must be the same as ours. When you go home you must instruct them, Anjin-san. Ah, yes, tell your Queen, she will understand. We are very sensible in matters of the pillow.”

“I’ll mention it to Her Majesty.” Blackthorne put the harigata aside with feigned reluctance. “What’s next?”

Kiku produced a string of four large round beads of white jade that were spaced along a strong silken thread. Mariko listened intently to Kiku’s explanation, her eyes getting wider than ever before, her fan fluttering, and looked down at the beads in wonder as Kiku came to an end. “Ah so desu! Well, Anjin-san,” she began firmly, “these are called konomi-shinju, Pleasure Pearls, and the senhor or senhora may use them. Saké, Anjin-san?”

“Thank you.”

“Yes. Either the lady or the man may use them and the beads are carefully placed in the back passage and then, at the moment of the Clouds and the Rain, the beads are pulled out slowly, one by one.”

“What?”

“Yes.” Mariko laid the beads on the cushion in front of him. “The Lady Kiku says the timing’s very important, and that always a . . . I don’t know what you would call it, ah yes, always an oily salve should be used . . . for comfort, Anjin-san.” She looked up at him and added, “She says also that Pleasure Pearls can be found in many sizes and that, if used correctly, they can precipitate a very considerable result indeed.”

He laughed uproariously and spluttered in English, “I’ll bet a barrel of doubloons against a piece of pig shit you can believe that!”

“So sorry, I didn’t understand, Anjin-san.”

When he could talk, he said in Portuguese, “I’ll bet a mountain of gold to a blade of grass, Mariko-san, the result is very considerable indeed.” He picked up the beads and examined them, whistling without noticing it. “Pleasure Pearls, eh?” After a moment he put them down. “What else is there?”

Kiku was pleased that her experiment was succeeding. Next she showed them a himitsu-kawa, the Secret Skin. “It’s a pleasure ring, Anjin-san, that the man wears to keep himself erect when he’s depleted. With this, Kiku-san says, the man can gratify the woman after he’s passed his pinnacle, or his desire has flagged.” Mariko watched him. “Neh?”