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“Yes, and also your back, your knees, and afterwards your spirit. Let the stout peasant women labor that way, Azalea. Such employment is not for one of gentle birth. You shall go to Tokyo.”

“What shall I do there?” inquired the girl.

“You have beauty and youth,” said Madame Yamada slowly.

The girl moved uneasily and then catching sight of the expression upon her mother’s face, she made as if to arise; but the other held her by the sleeve.

“Why do you start so?” she inquired gruffly. “Do you suppose I referred to the yoshiwara?”

“Yes,” said Azalea, white to the lips. Her voice became passionate. “I will not go, then,” she said. “You shall not sell me. I am the daughter of a samurai.”

“Foolish child! Who spoke of selling you to the yoshiwara?”

“Ah, your eyes spoke, mother-in-law. Besides, what other employment could my youth and beauty find in Tokyo?”

“Are there not geishas and tea house girls, and is not their employment esteemed admirable?”

“Yes, but I have not their accomplishments, and I am too old to learn how to dance. To be a geisha, I have heard, one must apprentice at the age of twelve. I am eighteen years. Yes, I am getting old,” she finished.