clear features. This wild figure twisted harshly toward her; that elegant shape, sleekly graceful even in her everyday kimono, leaning gently forward from the waist. His misshapen brown hat and indigo-striped garment tucked to the thigh; her elegant curve of hair, combed to a gossamer glint, and the captivating glimpse of padding deep within the glowing black satin of her obi foldsa€”al this is marvelous material for a picture.
The man puts out his hand and takes the purse, and at once the beautiful y balanced tension in their mutual poses disintegrates; the womana€™s figure ceases to draw him, while he in turn has broken free of that force. Painter though I am, I have never before realized just how powerful y psychological states can influence a picturea€™s composition.
They move apart now, to left and right. No tension holds the two figures in relation, and the composition has lost al vestige of coherence. At the entrance to the wood the man pauses and turns to look back, but the woman never glances behind her. She is walking smoothly toward me. At length she arrives directly in front of me.
a€?Sir!a€? she exclaims, and again, a€?Sir!a€?
Damn! When did she notice me?
a€?What is it?a€? I inquire, poking my head up above the japonica. My hat tumbles back onto the grass behind me.
a€?What are you doing there?a€?
a€?I was lying here composing a poem.a€?
a€?Liar! You saw what happened just now, didna€™t you?a€?
a€?Just now? You mean, you two. . . . Yes, I did see a bit.a€?
She laughs. a€?You didna€™t need to just see a bit. You could have watched al of it, you know.a€?
a€?To tel the truth, I did see quite a lot.a€?
a€?There you are, then! Come on over here a moment. Come out from under that japonica.a€?
I meekly do as instructed.
a€?Was there something else you wanted to do there?a€?
a€?No, I was just thinking of heading back.a€?
a€?Wel then, leta€™s go together.a€?
a€?Very wel .a€?
Stil submissive, I return to the clump of japonica, put on my hat, retrieve my painting equipment, and set off to walk beside her.
a€?Did you paint anything?a€?
a€?No, I gave up.a€?
a€?You havena€™t painted a single picture since youa€™ve been here, have you?a€?
a€?Thata€™s so, yes.a€?
a€?But surely ita€™s odd coming here special y to paint and then producing nothing?a€?
a€?There are no odds about it.a€?
a€?Real y? Why not?a€?
a€?Whata€™s the odds whether I paint a picture or not, after al ?a€?
a€?Thata€™s a pun, isna€™t it.a€? She laughs. a€?Youa€™re very nonchalant, I must say.a€?
a€?Whata€™s the point of coming to a place like this if youa€™re not going to be nonchalant?a€?
a€?Oh, come now. No matter what place youa€™re in, being alive has no point unless youa€™re nonchalant. Look at me, Ia€™m not at al embarrassed to have been seen as you saw me back there.a€?
a€?Therea€™s no need to be embarrassed, surely.a€?
a€?You think so? So who do you imagine that man was?a€?
a€?Hmm. Wel , he certainly isna€™t someone with a lot of money.a€?
She laughs again. a€?A good guess. Youa€™re a master of insight, arena€™t you! Actual y, he has so little money he cana€™t stay in the country, and he came to get some money from me.a€?
a€?Real y? Where did he come from?a€?
a€?He came from the town down there.a€?
a€?Thata€™s a long way. And where is he going?a€?
a€?Wel , it seems hea€™s going to Manchuria.a€?
a€?What wil he do there?a€?
a€?What wil he do there? I dona€™t know, he may make some money, or he may die.a€?
I raise my eyes to look at her. The little smile that has been hovering on her lips is rapidly disappearing. I cana €™t guess the meaning of her words.
a€?That man is my husband.a€?
Quick as a flash, she has landed me a slashing blow! Ia€™m utterly caught by surprise. I had of course had no intention of asking who he was; nor had I expected her to expose herself to me like this.
