“—It is a fact I have sold myself to Ashizawa, if you would have it that way. But, Shin san, if you expect to have a geisha for a sweetheart, you ought to be wise to the game, and don’t fool yourself about it. I may be as good—at those things—as many others; but you can’t expect me—or anybody else, for that matter,—to manage to put it over for hard cash by only palming off sugar pills to them. If I didn’t tell you everything straight and open, you ought to have seen what’s what, all the same. And if you knew that I was doing all this not for the love of the thing,—but for you,—your comfort and pleasure in life,—you ought to be saying to me something nicer than that. It’s for you to keep your eyes and mouth shut.—Now that we are at it, I may as well open your eyes now as later. There were times when I gave myself not only to Tokubey, but to Seiji, too. If you didn’t know it, that means no credit to you!”
Her taunting abuse thrown to his face, Shinsuké flew into a rage. Had it been but a matter of broken faith, the chastity of her body, he might have forborne and reconciled himself to the truth of it. In none of the words she uttered was seen a trace of truthfulness. Her real intention was, to all appearances, that she should drive him into a passion and, once a wedge was driven in between them through this idea, should turn her back upon him and go her own way.
“It’s no credit to me, and you are right! I never thought for a moment that there should be so much rottenness in your heart. And now take this for deceiving me all this time!”
Swiftly, he took her by her hair at the back of her head, brought her down under his knees. His hand flew to a clothes hanger lying near by; his blows were many and none too sparing.
Even the while he dealt out punishment, he became conscious of a sharp feeling of desolation, as of a child forsaken by its parents, rising to fill his heart. That his examination of this night should come to this—to this dismal abomination, had been quite beyond his ken. Where he had hoped to take her unawares, he found himself confronted by the other even more prepared in mind than he himself was. What was he to do should she leave him now?—but his mind refused to be harrowed thus far.
“Beat!—beat me as much as you want! I do really love that man Ashizawa, as you supposed! For a long time I’ve had enough of a dolt like you!”
It was not a taunt that he was not exactly prepared for; none the less, flaunted to his face with such open boldness, it stunned him; he was so stunned as to relax, in spite of himself, his hold on the rod. Gone too far beyond his help;—the thought darted through his mind, and he was assailed by an unbearable and abject misery.
“I am sorry for what I said, and I say no more! Never will I worry you again with my foolish thoughts; so forgive me, and smile again! Think of me—of us, I beg you, and love me as you used to do!” Shinsuké repeated himself to such effect time and again, as he went on the knees before her, his head bowed low. To which insistent entreaty, Tsuya’s answer continued to be one and unchanged:—“I have to take care of myself, too; give me a couple of days or so to think it over, before I know what to tell you.”
The case of what was known as “The Killing of O-Tsuya” took place two or three days after this. Generally, a woman of stout heart and dauntless courage, Tsuya seemed to have lost her grip on herself, and stood in strong dread of the worst the man might dare at the last. She had therefore carried on her preparations in the dark; on the third day, at a late hour in the night, she betook herself from a party at a tea-house, and thence effaced herself. Shinsuké who had been on the alert did not neglect to keep himself informed. When he was informed at the call station of her departure from the house, he set off at once for Mukojima.
On the river bank of Mukojima, near the gateway to the Mimeguri shrine, she was overtaken and dragged out of the palanquin. Tsuya held back his arm; and, with, a gesture of prayer, said—.