The woman's speech was slow and calm, but Eguchi's heart raced.
'About eleven, then.' he said, his throat dry.
What does it matter whether she's asleep or not, he should have been able to say, not seriously, perhaps, but half in jest. He would have liked to meet her before she went to sleep, he could have said. But somehow the words caught in his throat. He had come up against the secret rule of the house. Because it was such a strange rule, it had to be followed all the more strictly. Once it was broken, the place became no more than an ordinary bawdy house. The sad requests of the old men, allurements, all disappeared. Eguchi himself was startled at the fact that he had caught his breath so sharply upon being told that nine was too early, that the girl would not be asleep, that the woman would haver her asleep by eleven. Might it be called the surprise of suddenly being pulled away from the every day world? For the girl could be asleep and certain not to awake up.
Was he too quick or slow, going again after a fortnight to a house he had not thought to revisit? He had not, in any case, resisted the temptation by force of will. He had not meant to indulge again in this sort of ugly senile dalliance, and in fact he was not yet as senile as the other men who visited the place. And yet that first visit had not left behind ugly memories. The guilt was there. But he felt that he had not in all his sixty-seven years spent another night so clean. So he still felt when he awoke in the morning. The sleeping medicine had worked, it seemed, and he had slept until eight, later than usual. No part of him was touching the girl. It was a sweet, childlike awakening, in her young warmth and soft scent.
The girl had lain with her face toward him, her head very slightly forward and her breasts back, and in the shadow of her jaw there had been a scarcely perceptible line across the fresh, slender neck. Her long hair was spread over the pillow behind her. Looking up from the neatly closed lips, he had gazed at her eyebrows and eyelashes and had not doubted that she was a virgin. She was too near fir his old eyes ti make out the individual hairs if the eyelashes and eyebrows. Her skin, on which he could not see the fuzz, glowed softly. There was not a single mole on the face and neck. He had forgotten the nightmare, and as affection for the girl poured through him. there came over him too a childlike feeling that he was loved by the girl. He felt for a breast, and held it softly in his hand. There was in the touch a strange flicker of something, as if this were the breast of Eguchi's own mother before she had him inside her. He withdrew his hand, but the sensation went from his chest to his shoulders.
He heard the door to the next room open.
'Are you awake?' Asked the woman of the house. 'I have breakfast ready.'
'Yes.'
Raising himself, Eguchi softly touched the girl's hair, He knew that the woman was sending the customer away before the girl awoke, but she was calm as she served him breakfast. Until when had the girl been put to sleep? But it would not do to ask unnecessary questions.
'A very pretty girl.' He said nonchalantly.
'Yes. And did you have pleasant dreams?'
'It brought me pleasant dreams.'
'The wind and the waves have quieted down.' The woman changed the subject. 'It will be what they call Indian Summer.'
And now, coming a second time in half a month, Eguchi did not feel the curiosity of the earlier visit so much as reticence and a certain discomfort. But the excitement was also stronger. The impatience if the wait from nine to eleven had brought in a certain intoxication.
The same woman unlocked the gate for him. The same reproduction was in the alcove. The tea was again good. He was more nervous than on his earlier visit, but he managed to behave like an old and experienced customer.
'It's so warm hereabouts… ' he said, looking around at the picture of the mountain village in autumn leaves '… that I imagine the maple leaves wither without really turning red. But then it was dark, and I didn't really get a good look at your garden.'
It was an improbable way to make conversation.
'I wonder… ' said the woman, indifferently '… it's gotten very cold. I've put on an electric blanket, a double one with two switches. You can adjust your side to suit yourself.'
'I've never slept under an electric blanket.'
'You can turn your side off if you like, but I must ask that you leave the girl's on.'
Because she was naked, the old man knew.
'An interesting idea, a blanket that two people can adjust to suit themselves.'
'It's American. But please don't be difficult and turn off the girl's side. You understand, I'm sure, that she won't wake up, no matter how cold she gets.'
He did not answer.
'She's more experienced than the one before.'
'What?'
'She's very pretty too. You won't do anything wrong, I know… and so it wouldn't be right if she weren't pretty.'
'It's not the same one?'
'No. This evening… isn't it better to have a different one?'
'I'm not as promiscuous as all that.'
'Promiscuous? But what does it have to do with promiscuousness?'
The woman's easy way of speaking seemed to hide a faint smile of derision.
'None of my guest are promiscuous. They are all kind enough to be gentlemen I can trust.'
Thin-lipped, the woman did not looked at him as she spoke. The note of mockery set Eguchi on edge, but he could think of nothing to say. What was she, after all, but a cold, seasoned procuress?
'And then you may think of it as promiscuous, but the girl herself is asleep, and doesn't even know who she has slept with. The girl the other time and the girl tonight will never know a thing about you, and to speak of promiscuous is a little…'
'I see. It's not a human relationship.'
'What do you mean:'
It would be odd to explain, now that he had come to the house, that for an old man who was no longer a man, to keep company with a girl who had been put to sleep was 'not a human relationship'.'
'And what's wrong with being promiscuous?'
Her voice strangely young, the woman laughed a laugh to soothe an old man.
'If you're fond of the other girl, I can have her here the next time you come. But you'll admit afterwards that this one is better.'
'Oh? What do you mean when you say she's more experienced? After all she's sound asleep;'
'Yes?' The woman got up, unlock the door to the next room, looked inside, and put the key before old Eguchi. 'I hope you sleep well.'
Eguchi poured hot water into the pot and had a leisurely cup of tea. He meant it to be leisurely, at least, but his hand was shaking. It was not because of his age, he muttered. He was not yet a guest to be trusted. How would it be, by way of revenge for all the derided and insulted old men who came here, if he where to violate the rule of the house? And would that not be a more human way of keeping company with the girl? He did not know how heavily she had been drugged, but he was probably still capable of awakening her with his roughness. So he thought. But his heart did not rise to the challenge.
The ugly senility of the sad men who came to this house was not many years away for Eguchi himself. The immeasurable expanse of sex, its bottomless depth… what part of it had Eguchi known in his sixty-seven years? And around the old men, new flesh, young flesh, beautiful flesh was forever being born. Were not the longing of the sad old men for the unfinished dream, the secret of this house? Eguchi had thought before that girls who did not awaken were ageless freedom for old men. Asleep and unspeaking, they spoke as the old men wished.
He got up and opened the door to the next room, and already a warm smell came to him. He smiled. Why had he hesitated? The girl lay with both hands on the quilt. Her nails were pink. Her lipstick was a deep red. She lay face up.
'Experienced, is she?' he murmured as he came up to her. Her cheeks were flushed from the warm of the blankets, and indeed her whole face was flushed. The scent was rich. Her eyelids and cheeks were full. Her neck was so white as to take on the crimson of the velvet curtains. The closed eyes seemed to tell him that a young
