“Oh ho!” grinned the Chinaman.
“You now pay twelve hundred thousand guilders for your monopoly, do you not? You will have to make it twenty, or else the Government will keep the whole business in its own hands.”
“Let them!” said Lim Yang Bing smiling disdainfully, “I should very much like to see that.” But, after a moment’s reflection, he went on: “It is quite impossible to offer more; as it is, we can only just avoid a loss.”
“And yet you can manage to give two millions to your son as a wedding present,” remarked Laurentia, with a knowing laugh.
“Aye,” he continued, as if he had not heard the remark, “if the Government would grant more licenses in the Residence, in that case.”—
“Is that all?” cried Laurentia carelessly. “How many do you hold now? But; that is no business of mine. How many more do you want?”
“Ten at the very least,” was the ready answer.
“That’s a good many, babah!—if ten additional licenses were granted, then I understand you to say that you are prepared to go up to two millions?”
Lim Yang Bing could only nod assent; he had no time to express himself verbally, for at that moment the procession, which had gone to fetch the bride had returned, and was appearing at the entrance of the gallery.
Its arrival was greeted with an explosion of fireworks so tremendous, and a cacophony from the Chinese band so hideous, that the din was absolutely deafening. If any evil spirits had been lurking about, that atrocious noise must certainly have made them take to their heels. No, not even the Shan Sao could stand that. In the midst of all this uproar, a comely group of Chinese maidens, very demure damsels, with finely cut features and modestly attired in picturesque gowns of yellow silk, with rose coloured sashes round their slim little waists, came forward to meet the bride and to bid her welcome. They offered her a garland of peach blossom, the emblem of maiden purity, and some nick-nacks amongst which was a cock, the emblem of the sungod, curiously carved out of peach-wood.