But Junko kneory be so quiet and beautiful?

    “Uured, “don’t you t?”

    “Don’t ’s caug’s just getting ready to flare up. See ’s smoking? You knohere’s fire.’ ”

    “ell, you knohere’s a hard-on.’ ”

    “Is t all you ever talk about?”

    “No, but   gone out?”

    “I just kno’s going to flare up.”

    “o master suc, Mr. Miyake?”

    “I  call it an ‘art.’ I learned it  or not, you learn everyto kno building a fire.”

    “I see,” said Keisuke. “A Boy Scout, huh?”

    “t’s not tory, of course. I alent, too. I don’t mean to brag, but o making a bonfire I alent t most folks just don’t have.”

    “It must give you a lot of pleasure, but I don’t suppose talent of yours makes you lots of money.”

    “true. None at all,” Miyake said h a smile.

    As ed, a feo flicker at ter of t crackling sound. Junko let out a long-o . to stretc t fees to be done but to ctle by little, trengty t  like t to t Junko.

    “I understand you’re from Kobe, Mr. Miyake,” Keisuke said in a c o ives or somet month?”

    “I’m not sure,” said Miyake. “I don’t ies  for years.”

    “Years? ell, you sure  lost your Kansai accent.”

    “No? I can’t tell, myself.”

    “I do declare, you must be joking,” said Keisuke in exaggerated Kansai tones.

    “Cut t, Keisuke. t t to rying to talk to me in a p. You eastern farm boys ter off tearing around on your motorcycles during the slack season.”

    “ guy, but you’ve got one  ‘Ibaragi.’ All you Kansai type