“The oshibori goes in the basket,” the mistress said. “You weren’t supposed to wash your face with it, just your hands.” Her voice sounded kind, but her look said, You’re an amateur at this. My return look said, I’m not a gold digger like you because mine has no gold.

“I hear you’re applying to art school,” the collector said.

I told him that I had just been accepted by CalArts (Disney’s version of the Bauhaus) and now had to wait to hear if I got a scholarship.

The mistress smiled. The smile said, Mine is paying for the Japanese classes and an apartment.