"She can embroider, she can sing, and play on several instruments; she can even compose a quatrain at a pinch."
"Ah-ha! is that so? And how much do you want for her?"
"Four kobangs."
The innkeeper was about to exclaim, "No more!" but he restrained himself.
"That's exactly what I was going to offer you," said he.
"Well, it's a bargain," said the old man; "I hire her to you to do whatever you bid her, for a term of twenty years."
The buyer hurriedly brought brushes and a roll of paper, and drew up a bill of sale, which the old man readily signed.
The young girl meantime stood like a statue; she did not waste a look on the old man, who pretended to wipe away a tear as he pocketed the kobangs.
Before leaving, he bent towards the innkeeper's ear and whispered: "Keep your eye on her; watch her well; she will try to escape."
Then he quitted the Day-Break Tea-house; and whoever saw him, as he turned the corner of the street, change his pace, rubbing his hands and outstepping the nimblest, might well have suspected the reality of his old age and his white beard.