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Madame Yamada could contain her curiosity no longer. At a sign from her, her daughters withdrew. Then she addressed the Nakoda.

“In what way,” she asked, “is the humblest one indebted to the esteemed Okido for his honorable visit?”

Okido put down the pipe on the hibachi and, turning toward Madame Yamada, looked at her keenly.

“You have daughters, Madame Yamada.”

“Two,” she answered promptly.

“Three,” said Okido slowly.

The esteemed one was mistaken. The gods had only blessed her with two.

Nay, the gods had been kinder. Were there not three, including her step-daughter?

“Ah, yes.” Madame Yamada smiled coldly.

“Let me repeat,” he said slowly. “You have daughters.”

“Yes;” she allowed the word to escape her lips impatiently. Would the stupid broker never come to his business?

“And I,” said Okido, “have a client who desires the hand of one of your daughters.”

A red spot appeared in either of Madame Yamada’s cheeks.

“What is the name of his honorable parent?” she asked, no longer attempting to conceal her interest.