Free Quicksand by Junichirô Tanizaki Page A

this man and woman decided to pretend they were there on a rendezvous—it seems they understood that the detectives in charge of rounding up gamblers were different from the ones who were after illicit lovers. But the detectives were too clever for them and arrested them on suspicion, to take them off to the police station. That’s when they put on the kimonos that Mitsuko and Watanuki had left in the clothes box by their bedside. You see, this couple had changed into inn robes to gamble, and during the raid their own clothes were in a different room. So to keep up the pretense that they weren’t gamblers, they had to put on the clothes they found there by the bed. Then when Mitsuko and he at last felt safe enough to come back after their narrow escape, their clothes were gone—they hadn’t even been left a wallet or handbag, and the innkeeper had been arrested too, so there was no one to help them. They couldn’t even go home.
    Another worry, according to Watanuki, was that they might be identified by Mitsuko’s Hankyu train pass, which was in her bag, and by the calling cards in his own wallet. It would be disastrous for them if the police carried the investigation to their families; that’s why they were at such a loss when she telephoned me. But since I had been kind enough to come all the way here, and seemed to care so much for Mitsuko, perhaps I would also take the trouble to go back with her to Ashiya and say that we had spent the evening together at the movies. And just in case the police had called, he said, he counted on me to find some plausible way to explain it.

11
    â€œ PLEASE , MRS . KAKIUCHI , I’m sure you must be angry about tonight, but it’s something I have to beg of you.” Again he bowed deeply, till his forehead touched the floor. “I don’t care what happens to me, but please, please take Mitsuko safely home. I’ll be forever grateful.” By the end he was clasping his hands prayerfully.
    For my part, even though I felt I had been terribly mistreated, I’m so easily moved that I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. Still, out of sheer bitterness, I simply glared at him in silence for a time as he groveled there before me. At last I gave in and said merely: “All right.”
    Watanuki bowed again.
    â€œAah!” he sighed theatrically, in a voice full of emotion. “So you will do it. I’m truly thankful to you; that takes a burden off my mind.” Then, peering into my eyes as if to see how I might react, he added: “In that case, I’ll ask Mitsuko to come in here, but before I do I have one more request to make. She’s so upset by all that’s gone on tonight that I hope you won’t say anything about it. Is that agreeable? Will you promise not to mention it?”
    I couldn’t refuse that either, and he immediately called to Mitsuko through the sliding door.
    â€œShe understands everything,” he assured her. “Please come out!”
    A little while before, I had heard a rustling sound beyond the door as she seemed to be putting on the kimono, but by now it was deadly silent, as if she was straining to hear what we were saying. A few minutes after he called to her, the door finally began to open. Little by little, an inch or two at a time, the door slid open, and then Mitsuko appeared, her eyes reddened and swollen from crying.
    I wanted to see her expression, but the moment our eyes met she dropped her gaze and slipped quietly down to sit nestled-in the young man’s shadow. I only saw her bite her lip—saw those swollen eyelids, the long lashes, the elegant line of her nose—as she sat with both hands tucked into her sleeves, leaning in a kind of abandoned pose, her body twisted, the skirt of her kimono gaping in disarray. And as I looked at Mitsuko sitting there, I was reminded that this very kimono was one of our matching pair, and I thought of the time we ordered them and