Quicksand by Junichirô Tanizaki Read Free Book Online Page B

come out with it before other people.”
    Yet whenever I said that, she took offense. “I hate it when you’re so distant! Don’t you like to have me think of you as my big sister? . . . Please, let me call you Sister—I’ll be very careful if anyone else is around.” But that day it finally did come out.

    After Mitsuko left, there was an awkward silence between my husband and me. And the next evening, as if it had just occurred to him, he suddenly asked: “Isn’t there something funny going on? I have a hard time trying to understand your behavior lately.”
    â€œWhat’s there to understand?” I shot back. “I’m not aware of anything.”
    â€œYou’re on awfully good terms with that girl Mitsuko,” he went on. “What exactly is she to you?”
    â€œI’m very fond of Mitsuko! That’s why we’re such good friends.”
    â€œI know you’re fond of her, but what does being fond of her mean?”
    â€œIt’s just a feeling! It isn’t something you can explain !” I was purposely defiant, thinking I mustn’t let him see any weakness in me.
    â€œDon’t be so sensitive,” he said. “Can’t you just tell me calmly? Being ‘fond’ has all kinds of meanings—besides, there were those rumors at school. I was only asking because I think it’s to your disadvantage if people misunderstand. Suppose talk like that gets around; you’ll be the one to blame. You’re older, and you’re a married woman. . . . How could you face her parents? And it’s not just you—I’d have no excuse myself if people thought I’d condoned your behavior.”
    What he said cut me to the quick, but I remained stubborn.
    â€œThat’s enough,” I told him. “I don’t like your meddling in my choice of friends. You can have any friends you want, and I hope you’ll let me do as I please! Surely I’m responsible for my own actions.”
    â€œWell, if you two were ordinary friends, I certainly wouldn’t meddle. But taking off from school nearly every day, doing things behind your husband’s back, shutting yourselves up alone together—it just doesn’t seem healthy.”
    â€œOh? So that’s the way you feel about it. With your nasty imagination, aren’t you the one that’s behaving badly?”
    â€œIf I’m at fault, I’ll apologize. I only hope it’s my imagination. But instead of accusing me, shouldn’t you search your own conscience? Are you sure you have nothing to be ashamed of?”
    â€œThere you go talking like that again! You know I find Mitsuko attractive—that’s why we became friends. Didn’t you yourself say you wanted to meet her, if she’s so beautiful? It’s natural to be attracted to beautiful people, and between women it’s like enjoying a work of art. If you think that’s unhealthy, you’re the unhealthy one!”
    â€œAll right, but you could enjoy a work of art in front of me; you needn’t shut yourselves up together . . . and why do you both look so nervous when I come home? Another thing: it bothers me to hear her call you Sister, when you’re not even related.”
    â€œDon’t be absurd! You haven’t the faintest idea of schoolgirl talk, have you? Girls often think of each other as older sister and younger sister, if they’re good friends. You’re the only one who finds it strange!”
    That evening my husband was oddly persistent. Usually as soon as I seemed irritated he would give up and say: “You’re impossible.” But this time he kept after me.
    â€œDon’t try to lie your way out of it: I’ve already heard all about it from Kiyo.” And he added that he knew I wasn’t just painting—he wanted me to confess what I was up to.
    â€œThere’s nothing to confess.