There was a time when I was still a miss, but was I ever such a young lady?
Standing shoulder to shoulder in the brightly illuminated bustle of the corridor, O-Nobu, who had lived her life day to day as it came to her, with no thought of measuring herself against Tsugiko, was struck by a kind of sorrow she had never felt before. The feeling was mild. But it was the sort of feeling that could easily turn to tears. It was the sort of feeling that made her want to grasp tightly the hand of the companion she had just now been observing with a jealous eye. In her heart she spoke to Tsugiko.
Cousin, you’re purer than I am. You’re so pure I envy you. Your purity is a weapon, but against your future husband it will be useless. Even if you attend to him as I attend to mine, irreproachably, without a lapse or fault, he won’t return the appreciation you long for. Soon enough, to secure his love, you will have to lose the natural purity that is your treasure. And even if you sacrifice something so very precious for him, he may repay you with harshness. I envy you, and at the same time I feel sorry for you. Because in your innocence you don’t understand that before long you will have to destroy the precious treasure you possess without even knowing it. For better or for worse, I was never blessed with a perfectly natural vessel like the one you possess, so I suppose in my case it might be said there hasn’t been so very much damage, but you are different from me. The minute you leave your parents for good, your heavenly innocence will be blemished. You deserve pity more than I.
They were walking slowly. When the Okamotos disappeared, the view of them obstructed by others in between, O-Nobu’s aunt made her way back to them.
“Hurry along, you dawdlers. Yoshikawa-san is waiting for us.”
Her aunt’s eyes were fixed on Tsugiko, her words addressed to her in particular. But the name Yoshikawa rang in O-Nobu’s ears with the force of a wind that scattered with one gust her mood until now. Her mind turned at once to Madam Yoshikawa, a woman she had no special fondness for and who, it appeared, had no particular fondness for her. As the wife of a powerful man whose not insubstantial patronage her husband regularly enjoyed, this was a person in whose presence she would be obliged to comport herself with the utmost amiability and politeness. Her face impassive, though her composure concealed a variety of uneasiness, O-Nobu followed the others into the dining room.
[52]
IT WAS as her aunt had said: the Yoshika-was had arrived ahead of them, and the matron who was the object of O-Nobu’s attention was engaged, facing the entrance as she stood at the table, in a conversation with O-Nobu’s uncle. The first thing O-Nobu noticed was her bulk, so considerable that not even the corpulent figure of her uncle’s back was sufficient to conceal it. At that same moment Madam Yoshikawa, her abundantly fleshed cheeks brightened by her dazzling smile, fixed her eyes on O-Nobu. But no sooner had recognition flashed between them than contact was broken, and the women did not acknowledge each other again until they exchanged formal greetings.
Glancing in Madam’s direction, it was impossible to avoid also seeing the young gentleman standing at her side. As this was unmistakably the silent man who had surprised her and Tsugiko in the corridor as they were joking indiscreetly about Madam’s binoculars, O-Nobu shuddered in spite of herself.
O-Nobu stood modestly behind the others as greetings passed among them, and when her turn came the unknown man was introduced to her simply as Miyoshi-san. It was Madam Yoshikawa who introduced him; as the introduction was identical to what she had said to O-Nobu’s uncle and aunt and even to Tsugiko, O-Nobu was left in the dark about Miyoshi’s identity.
When they took their seats, Madam sat next to Uncle Okamoto. Miyoshi was seated next to her. O-Nobu’s aunt was on the corner. Tsugiko was opposite Miyoshi. O-Nobu, whose only choice was the one seat remaining, hesitated. Yoshikawa was in the neighboring seat; Madam was opposite.
“Have a seat.”
Yoshikawa looked up at O-Nobu with a sidelong glance as if to prompt her.
“Do sit down.” Madam Yoshikawa said casually, looking directly at O-Nobu.
“Don’t stand on ceremony — join us.”
O-Nobu had no choice but to take the seat opposite Madam. Though she had intended to make the first move, she had been preempted, a bad start. From this moment on she would have to conduct herself in such a way that her hesitation would be interpreted as genuine deference grounded in politeness. In light of this resolve, Tsugiko, her exact opposite, appeared more distinctly innocent than ever as she sat across the table.
Tsugiko was even more subdued than usual. She spoke hardly at all, her eyes lowered, and there was something visible beneath the surface of her demeanor that appeared to be close to agony. O-Nobu looked across at her sympathetically and quickly turned to Madam Yoshikawa directly opposite her with the winsome eyes that were her specialty. An adroit socializer, Madam wasn’t one to remain silent.
They exchanged several fragments of polite conversation. But the topics offered no possibility of development and fell flat. O-Nobu considered building a conversation around Tsuda, whom they had in common, but as she deliberated whether she should bring him up herself, Madam Yoshikawa abandoned her and turned to Miyoshi far down the table.
“Miyoshi-san, will you kindly share one of your interesting adventures abroad with Tsugiko-san?”
Miyoshi, who had just broken off a conversation with O-Nobu’s aunt, turned toward Madam and spoke quietly.
“Certainly — if you wish.”
“I certainly do. You mustn’t just sit there.”
At this command everyone laughed. Yoshikawa hastened to make his wife’s request specific.
“Give us that one about escaping from Germany.”
“I’m always repeating that Germany story. It’s starting to seem old hat to me more than to others.”
“Even someone as calm as you must have been a little panicked—”
“More than a little. I think I was frantic — of course it’s hard to know about yourself.”
“But I bet you never thought you might be killed.”
“I suppose not—”
Miyoshi paused to reflect, and Yoshikawa spoke up from the neighboring seat.
“There’s no way he thought he’d be killed — not this fellow.”
“Why is that? Because he’s so brazen?”
“It’s not that — it’s just that this is a man with a keen taste for life.”
Tsugiko, without looking up, tittered. O-Nobu was able to gather only that this was a man who had escaped from Germany just before the war.*
* The “war” is World War I.
[53]
FOR A while the table was engrossed in stories about travel abroad that centered on Miyoshi. Whenever there was a lull, Madam provided an opportunity for someone to pick up the thread of the conversation, and O-Nobu, observing her skillfully at work, saw through to the effort she was making to push the unknown young man into the center of attention. Miyoshi, more taciturn than merely placid and unaware that he was being borne aloft on the fluency of someone kindly disposed toward him, was presenting himself to the others in his most appealing light.
There was no room for O-Nobu to put in a single word of her own. Nonetheless, while the natural course of the conversation consigned her to the position of attentive listener, her critical faculty was actively engaged. Perceiving that Madam’s technique included a blend of frankness and presumption, and seeing clearly each step of the procedure by which she moved her strategy toward success, O-Nobu had to acknowledge that a vast distance separated Madam Yoshikawa’s temperament and her own. But she sensed that this was not a matter of superior and inferior, but a distance across a flat surface. That was far from meaning, however, that there was nothing to fear from it. Quite apart from her imperiousness, which seemed to come from the privileged status she enjoyed, there was, O-Nobu sensed uneasily, something dangerous about Madam’s skill, as if a time might come when it would be accompanied by a frightening power of destruction.