“So, there seems mighty little chance of making a mistake about this. But there’s something I don’t quite understand. I’m afraid you will not like me for telling you this, in case this girl turns out to be the real one; nevertheless—”
With this introduction, Kinzo went on to tell him about the girl in question what he had heard as being passed around as talk of the gay quarters. It was only about a month and a half ago that this girl Somékichi began to appear at the Naka-cho; but the fame of the girl, what of her musical talent, her likeable personality and brightness, her beauty to match anybody in the whole of that part of town, was soon on everybody’s lips. She became the rage of the place. A young son of a rich cloth trader of down town, a certain military officer of the Hatamoto13 class, and five or six other men about town had lost their heads over her, had been cleaned out of almost incredible amounts of money, whilst they were hotly making what had proved nothing but a wild goose chase. It was generally conjectured amongst people of the quarter that this man Tokubey, being infatuated with her himself, always put himself between the girl and whomever he had cause to be jealous of. The owner of the geisha house, under whose banner she listed herself was no other than Tokubey’s mistress who carried on the business with his capital. And not a day passed but there were squabbles or fights amongst these triangular figures. As the upshot of the thing, the mistress of the house had been packed off only about ten days since, and Somékichi was now the most important figure in the house, thus winning for herself a nitch amongst the leading, and most honoured of the geisha. And so, gossips had it that Tokubey was too heartless a man, of course, but Somékichi, yet so young, had a nerve as wonderfully distinct as her looks were.
However, it was quite open to question whether she had surrendered herself to Tokubey, as gossips seemed to make it out, added Kinzo his own opinion, as if he wished to inspire the young man with more cheerful hopes. It was quite probable, in his opinion, that Tokubey, too, should be faring exactly as badly as the other men, just exciting himself on a chase that was to take him nowhere. A woman who was a cynosure of jealous eyes was naturally exposed to shafts of slander, one half of which may generally be regarded as fiction. What had struck Kinzo as remarkable, however, from what he saw of her at his party, was that she displayed herself so sophisticated that he would scarce imagine that she had been brought up in a rich pawnbroker’s family till a few months ago. From the way she had carried herself off, there was seen nothing about her of distress that might be expected of one grieving over the loss of the man to whom she had given her body and soul. She laughed and was gay throughout, drinking so heartily as few women would. If she was taking it, and probably she was, to drown her sorrows, of course, it was not so difficult to understand.
“In any case, you will go there and see her for yourself,” concluded Kinzo. “I’ve left a word at Obana-ya’s so they will take care of you, if you go alone.”
Apart from what had been remarked concerning Tokubey, that was certainly not palatable, all else seemed to point to one and the same theory, as Shinsuké went over and put them together. Hearty drinking, sophistication, unwarrantable gaiety, and all this plausibly fitted to her case as he conceived it in her downward slide. Let her appear as dissolute as she would for aught he cared, thought Shinsuké, if only she had remained faithful to himself.
On the morrow Shinsuké shaved himself, and his mole marks were washed off in the bath. He had again given himself the neat and spruce air of former days. Even though the blot once left on his mind by his dire crimes was never to be washed out, his eyes had the same look of frank appeal and trustfulness, and his fresh-coloured, rounded cheeks betrayed no trace of pallid anguish. And now there was the remotest chance, so remote as to be almost negligible, that Shinsuké might be seen on the way by the boatman Seiji, who, in such event, might be goaded into any sort of covert, cowardly assault upon him by the fear of his past being divulged through him;—this the thoughtfulness of Kinzo. Arrangements had been made, therefore, for the young man to leave in the palanquin about the closing in of evening, when little exposure on his part would be necessary. And was not the meeting about to be with Somékichi this night—was it not going to be his leave taking of her, and of this world?
“Well, then, I must bid you a goodbye,” said Shinsuké in his deeply moved voice, putting his hands low, as the time of his departure drew near.
“Now, come to think of it, but this may be the last time we see one another. If this girl, Somékichi, turns out to be your girl, Tsuya-chan, you need not trouble yourself to come back here, and you will take yourself straight to the officer, tomorrow. It will be mighty hard for you—I know—, but if you let her keep you a couple or so
