“I see it, babah, I see it, how exquisitely it is carved.”
“It is cut out of a single block of peachwood,” said the Chinaman, “that little thing alone has cost me twelve hundred guilders.”
“I say, babah! you must be a rich man,” remarked Laurentia.
“So, so,” replied the Chinaman inordinately proud in his assumed modesty. “Do you happen to know what the wedding breakfast and this evening’s banquet will cost me?”
“No, I don’t—do tell me, babah!”
“Well, I will—they will stand me in very nearly fifteen thousand guilders.”
“Why, babah! you must be a very rich man,” said Laurentia in a wheedling voice.
“Oh, not very,” whined the Chinaman. “But you don’t know how much I give my son as my wedding gift.”
“You mean to Lim Ho, the bridegroom? No, I cannot guess—do tell me, babah?”
“Two millions!” he whispered, fairly beside himself with delight.