三十四

I asked K whether he had gone out together with the young lady. K answered that he had not. He explained that they had happened to meet in Masagocho and had come back walking together. I had to refrain from any further probing questions. Yet at mealtime, I again felt inclined to put the same question to the young lady. Then the young lady gave that laugh of hers that I disliked. And in the end she said, go on, guess where we went. I was still quick-tempered in those days, so being treated so flippantly by a young woman made me angry. But the only one at the same table who noticed this was the mistress. K was rather unfazed. As for the young lady's attitude, there was a point where it was hard to tell clearly whether she was doing it knowingly or innocently. As a young woman, the young lady was thoughtful enough, yet it seemed to me that she also possessed—or perhaps did not possess—that quality in young women which I disliked. And that quality I disliked only began to catch my eye after K came to stay. I was at a loss whether to attribute it to my own jealousy toward K, or to regard it as the young lady's artfulness toward me. Even now I have no intention of denying the jealousy I felt then. As I have repeatedly said, I was acutely conscious of this emotion working on the reverse side of love. And yet to an onlooker, this emotion would surely raise its head even over the most trivial of matters. This is beside the point, but is not such jealousy one half of love? After I married, I became aware that this emotion gradually faded. In its place, my affection was by no means as fierce as before.

I began to think of flinging my hitherto hesitant heart at the other's breast in one decisive move. My other was not the young lady, but the mistress. I considered opening plain negotiations with the mistress to give me the young lady. Yet even as I made this resolution, day by day I put off the day of action. Hearing this, I may seem a most irresolute man; and I do not mind seeming so, but in truth my reluctance to advance was not due to a lack of willpower. Before K came, my unwillingness to let her fall into another's hands held me down and kept me from moving a step. After K's arrival, the doubt whether perhaps the young lady's heart inclined toward K constantly restrained me. If indeed the young lady's heart leaned more to K than to me, I had resolved that such a love was not worth speaking of. It was not quite the same as minding the shame of being made a fool. Even if I cared ever so much, if she inwardly bestowed her loving eyes on another, I would not want to be with such a woman. In this world there are those who happily take as wife the woman they fancy regardless, but I then thought such men were either far more worldly than us, or fools who could not grasp the psychology of love. I was too feverish to accept any philosophy like, once you've got her, things will settle one way or another. In short, I was an extremely lofty theorist of love. And at the same time, its most roundabout practitioner.

With the young lady herself, occasions to confess my true self directly did now and then arise during our long time together, but I deliberately avoided them. I was strongly aware then, as a Japanese custom, that such things were not permitted. Yet by no means was that alone what bound me. I presumed that Japanese, especially young Japanese women, lacked the courage in such cases to speak their minds to the other without reserve or awkwardness.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”