The Wild Geese by Ōgai Mori Read Free Book Online Page B

battlement of the brazier to protect her.
    During their talks Suezo would get her to speak for a time, usually on trivial and sentimental matters about the years she had lived alone with her father. In spite of himself, Suezo would listen with a smile, not so much to what she was saying but rather to the pleasant melody of her voice. It was as though he was hearing the pure tones of a bell-insect. Then Otama would suddenly become self-conscious, blush at having run on about herself, and dash off the rest of her sentence before lapsing into her usual silence. With his penetration Suezo could see that her speech and behavior were so totally innocent that she seemed as transparent as fresh water in the bottom of a flat vase. His delight in their conversation was equal to his own joy in soaking his limbs in an agreeably warm bath after an exhausting day at work. The experience of this delight, quite a new one for him, had been giving him unconsciously a sort of “culture” since the start of his visits to her. After all, a primitive beast can be subdued by sensitive hands.
    But a number of days after she had moved in, he became aware of her increasing restlessness. When he took his place before the brazier, she would get up, find some unnecessary task to do, occupy her hands. From the beginning of their relationship, she had avoided his glance and had hesitated in answering his questions. On this occasion her conduct was so strange that there had to be some explanation for it.
    â€œCome now,” he said, filling his pipe, “something's bothering you. What is it?”
    â€œNo,” said Otama, her eyes widening, “there's nothing wrong.”
    She had pulled out one of the drawers from the frame of the brazier as if to arrange it, but she had already put it in order. She began to search for an item when obviously she had nothing to look for. Suezo could tell that her eyes could not keep very great secrets.
    In spite of frowning unconsciously, he brightened instantly. “Come, Otama, you know you're worried. It's written all over your face. I can just make out the words. Let me see,” he said, looking at her sharply. “Oh yes! ‘I'm all confused. What'll I do? What'll I do?' ”
    Otama was embarrassed, and for a while she sat in silence as though she did not know how to begin. Suezo could clearly perceive the motion of this delicate instrument.
    â€œI—well—it's my father. I've been thinking about visiting him—one of these days. . . . And it's been long since . . . .”
    Though a man may see the particular movement of a highly intricate machine, he may not necessarily understand its total operation. An insect that must always ward off persecution from the bigger and stronger of the species is given the gift of mimicry. A woman tells lies.
    â€œWhat!” said Suezo, smiling in spite of his scolding tone. “You haven't visited him yet? His house right at Ike-no-hata? In front of your nose? Why, just think of Iwasaki's estate on the other side. It's almost as if the two of you were living in the same house. If you wish, we'll go now, though tomorrow would be better.”
    â€œBut—I've so many things to think of—to consider,” she said, poking the ashes with the charcoal tongs and stealing a glance at him.
    â€œNonsense!” he interrupted. “Such a simple thing doesn't require a reason! What an infant you are!” he said, his voice nevertheless tender.
    The matter ended there. Later, he even said with humorous gallantry: “If it's so much trouble, I'll come around in the morning and take you. After all, it is several hundred yards!”
    Lately Otama had tried to think of him in several ways. When she saw him in front of her with his reliable and considerate manner, even tenderness, she wondered why he had chosen a base profession. And she said to herself: “I may change him, make him find something else to do.” But she knew