Azalea sighed, then pressed her lips together, as if to prevent the retort that might have escaped them.
Madame Yamada bent toward her.
“Do you wish to marry?”
Azalea reflected.
“No-o,” she said softly, and then, “perhaps, yes. It would be a solution of my troubles, step-mother, would it not?”
“Would you marry any one who asked you, then? You appear to lack the common qualities of maiden modesty.”
“I did not say I would marry any one,” said the girl, flushing, “but almost anyone would be kinder than you.”
They were daring words, and she anticipated their effect upon her step-mother, for, after having spoken them she made a frightened motion from the older woman, who had seized her arm and was cruelly pinching it. Tears of pain came into the girl’s eyes, but she made no outcry. Suddenly Madame Yamada flung the girl’s arm from her.
“Did my touch hurt, then?” she inquired.
“Yes,” said Azalea briefly, her arm still sore, though released.