"They are yours," admitted Kuei-lien. "I have no claim to them. Take them."
"Ah, don't try that game of candor with me," said the woman. "I am not threatening, mind you. I am simply appealing to your reasonableness. I should be sorely disappointed if the protégée over whom I have taken such pains proved to be merely a clever fool. Just let me imagine two pictures for you. On the one hand you cling obstinately to little bits of paper for which you never can get a copper cent. What do I do? I call in two strong men who are waiting outside; they tie a piece of cloth across your mouth so as not to disturb the household unnecessarily, then they twist your arms so—and so; do you think you wouldn't soon be anxious to point out these worthless checks? Or they ransack these boxes, take off these pretty clothes, and cut the linings away with scissors; don't you think we could find them even if you had to stand stark naked watching us? What good would you get of your stubbornness? Just the pleasure of being sold back to be a slave again. That's one picture," concluded the t'ai-t'ai, as though she had been telling a story.
Kuei-lien listened in startled attention, quite hypnotized by the woman's smooth voice.
"Now for the other side, a much more cheerful picture. We'll imagine you giving me these checks. Lao Yang, at my orders, will cash them. Of that money I will give you one fourth. You may think that is too little, but it is more than you could get in any other way; it is much more than nothing. The best part of it is, you have the chance of earning more money on the same terms. It is not wrong. The Great Man is not well, as you know, and he is stubborn about keeping his money in a foreign bank. He thinks he can provide for us in time, but I know his disease: pfui! in a moment he's gone—like a candle blown out. If he dies, what becomes of us? Is it our fault for snatching what safeguards we can? Well, that's the other picture. You may not be contented with a fourth, but you'll like it better than being sold to a brothel. I am not easy with those who betray me."
Kuei-lien showed her mettle by smiling.
"Yes, I do like the second picture better," she said, "it is drawn very well. Do you offer me this picture?"
"I offer it—and I shall add a few more colors on the day Nancy marries my nephew. You have had your own game there, I know," she remarked cheerfully, "but your game is a risky one. I don't blame you for trying your own plans, but you were trying for all or nothing. While I'm here, it would have been nothing."
"I understand," said Kuei-lien. "I accept your offer."
"I am glad my judgment has been vindicated. I had begun to fear you were just like the common trash who remain slaves all their lives. They think they are clever because the cat doesn't stop them when they go to snatch rice from the trap. You are sensible; you understand that there is profit in being grateful."
Kuei-lien answered the t'ai-t'ai by unbuttoning her jacket and loosening her clothes till she could reach the narrow girdle bound next to her skin. Pulling it out, she cut the threads and extracted five folded slips of paper.