8

The　war　news　was　bad.　Hankow　had　fallen.　Refugees　from　the　northern　provinces　and　the　seacoast　were　flocking　into　Szechwan.　More　people　in　the　already　crowded　city　meant　more　business　for　Pao　Ching's　theater.　His　was　the　only　professional　troupe　organized　for　theatrical　refugees.　The　audiences　liked　to　hear　them,　because　most　of　them　were　strangers　from　other　parts　of　the　country;　and　Pao　Ching's　artists　were　to　their　taste.　As　for　those　who　appreciated　drum　singing,　they　found　Pao　Ching's　theater　the　only　interesting　entertainment　spot　in　town.　It　was　home　from　home　for　them.

Szechwan　is　a　rich　province,　with　an　abundance　of　rice,　sugar,　salt,　fruit,　vegetables,　medicinal　herbs,　tobacco,　and　silk.　Even　the　cost　of　living　there　was　lower　than　in　other　parts　of　the　nation.　This,　and　his　increased　income,　gave　Pao　Ching　a　chance　to　save　some　money.　He　was　planning　to　put　by　enough　to　build　his　own　theater.　If　he　had　a　theater　of　his　own,　he　could　run　it　like　a　school　and　take　in　a　few　pupils.　Under　him　they　would　learn　to　become　good　artists,　instead　of　mere　entertainers.　Having　a　theater　and　a　school　would　be　his　goal　in　the　entertainment　world.　Ballad　singers　of　the　future　would　boast　that　they　studied　at　the　Pao　Ching　school　under　his　tutorship.

Whenever　he　thought　of　building　his　theater　and　establishing　a　school,　Pao　Ching's　heart　would　swell　with　simple　joy　and　gladness.　But　then,　after　a　while,　he　realized　that　his　was　a　great　ambition,　and　he　was　afraid.

He　paused　sharply　and　rubbed　his　bald　pate　with　his　hands.　Goodness,　an　ambition　such　as　that　was　more　than　he　could　hope　to　realize.　There　was　Lotus　Charm　to　think　of.　Supposing　...　He　would　have　to　watch　her　carefully,　so　carefully.　And　he　sighed.　He　could　only　develop　his　career　if　nothing　went　wrong　with　her.

The　foggy　season　came　to　Chungking.The　city　was　enveloped　from　morn　to　dusk　in　thick　gray　mist.　Business　at　the　theater　boomed.　People　came　to　see　the　show　again　and　again,　and　those　who　might　normally　have　spent　their　evenings　in　the　streets,came　inside　to　be　free　of　the　foggy　gloom　outside.　But　Pao　Ching　was　always　on　the　lookout　for　air　raids.　He　and　his　family　had　experienced　too　many　to　be　careless.　He　realized　with　a　catch　of　terror　that　most　of　the　houses　in　the　provisional　capital　were　firetraps.　Built　of　wood　and　flimsy　as　match　boxes,　they　would　blaze　like　tinder.　Let　one　catch　fire,　and　the　whole　city　would　be　a　flaming　torch　in　a　few　hours.

The　fog　banished　to　menace　of　the　Japanese　planes.　Sometimes　it　was　so　dense　that　one　could　not　see　people　walking　in　the　streets.　And　because　of　the　protective　blanket　of　fog　the　inhabitants　became　lighthearted.　The　war　was　miles　away　again.　Life　was　normal.　It　was　time　for　pleasure　and　for　visits　to　the　theater.

The　fog　made　the　vegetables　grow　fast　in　Szechwan　Province.　They　were　lush　and　green　and　succulent,　larger　than　any　Pao　Ching　had　ever　seen.　And　Pao　Ching's　business　was　equally　flourishing.　The　theater　was　always　full,　Lotus　Charm　was　winning　applause,　and　the　clientele　was　faithful　and　respectful.　What　more　could　an　actor_manager　desire？　Prosperity　and　prestige　were　his　in　those　fog_bound　days,　as　the　great　drama　of　war　moved　interminably　across　the　country.

But　there　was　always　Jeweled　Lute,　the　glittering　raucous　singer,　the　entertainer　of　men,　the　star　attraction　of　the　show.　And　her　family,　the　Tangs,　with　their　greedy　hearts　and　scheming　minds.　They　made　no　social　calls　on　the　Fangs　now.　When　they　called　it　was　for　business,　to　collect　their　money　or　to　squeeze　something　extra　from　the　till.　Pao　Ching　understood　them　well.

On　one　occasion　he　purchased　some　food,　rare　delicacies　that　the　Tangs　did　not　often　have,　and　took　them　personally　to　the　family.　He　was　determined　to　keep　the　peace;　and　above　all　he　wanted　to　have　his　mind　at　rest.　It　was　fatiguing　to　work　with　suspicion　and　uncertainty　in　his　mind.

He　greeted　fat　Mrs.　Tang　with　a　broad　warm　smile.　“Such　a　long　time　since　I　have　had　the　pleasure　of　seeing　you,　Mrs.　Tang.　How　are　you？　I　have　brought　you　something　good　to　eat.　I　am　sure　you　will　like　it."

Mrs.　Tang　made　no　sign　of　accepting　the　gift.　There　was　no　smile　on　her　heavy　stolid　face.　Her　voice　sounded　bored　and　pained.　“My　dear　Pao　Ching,　you　are　rich　now.　We　humble　people　don't　dare　come　to　see　you　any　more."

Pao　Ching　looked　shocked.　“We　should　be　thankful,"　he　said　scornfully.　“We　are　mere　entertainers.　We　are　lucky　to　be　able　to　make　a　good　living　while　millions　of　others　are　dying　and　starving."

Mrs.　Tang's　mouth　went　down　at　the　corners.　“But　you　are　so　fortunate.　You　are　talented　yourself.　My　husband　is　no　good　at　all.　If　he　had　your　ability　he　could　form　his　own　company　and　have　his　own　theater.　Perhaps　he　will."　The　lips　turned　up　a　trifle,　and　a　smile　that　was　cousin　to　a　sneer　moved　upward　on　her　face.

“With　you　to　help　him,　Mrs.　Tang,"　agreed　Pao　Ching,　“a　man　should　be　able　to　accomplish　anything."　And　quickly　he　changed　the　subject　to　trivialities.　Smiling　and　laughing　he　overwhelmed　her　with　charm,　until　she　responded,　enjoying　his　company.　Then　with　the　touch　of　perfect　timing,　he　bade　her　adieu.

But　on　the　way　home　Pao　Ching　worried.　Worry　was　like　a　shadow　following　him,　even　in　his　prosperity.　If　Fourth　Master　Tang　could　collect　a　few　refugee　performers,　he　might　build　his　own　company　around　Jeweled　Lute.　Of　course　it　wouldn't　last　long.　Tang　would　cheat　the　artists,　Mrs.　Tang　would　scream　at　them　and　rob　them　too,　and　they　would　quit.　But　even　short_lived　competition　could　be　a　blow　to　Pao　Ching's　enterprise.

He　thought　the　whole　matter　over.　He　would　never　rest　until　he　had　made　sure　that　the　Tangs　could　do　him　no　harm.

One　night　as　he　was　finishing　his　act,　the　idea　came.　The　key　to　the　situation　was　Little　Liu.　If　he　could　get　the　little　musician　on　his　side,　the　power　was　his.　He　would　have　the　situation　under　his　control.　The　Tangs　could　not　work　without　Little　Liu.　Even　Jeweled　Lute　could　not　sing　without　an　accompanist.　He　had　only　to　get　a　hold　on　Liu,　and　forever　the　worry　of　competition　from　the　Tangs　would　be　out　of　his　mind.　First　he　made　inquiries　as　to　whether　there　were　any　other　refugee　accompanists.　There　wasn't　a　one　from　Chengtu　to　Kunming.　Little　Liu　was　really　a　treasure　worth　his　weight　in　gold.

For　nights　Pao　Ching　pondered　the　problem.　One　night　he　sat　up　in　bed,　and　rubbed　his　bald　pate　with　his　damp　palms.　Of　course　—　so　simple.　The　best　way　to　cinch　Little　Liu　was　to　make　him　a　member　of　the　family.　Have　him　marry　Phoenix　Girl.　But　his　heart　shrank　from　the　idea.　It　wasn't　fair　to　his　daughter.　Poor　little　Phoenix　Girl.　It　was　not　right　to　marry　her　off　to　an　accompanist,　even　if　he　was　talented　and　a　money　maker.　He　remembered　dimly　that　although　he　was　an　artist　himself,　he　did　not　want　his　daughter　to　become　a　theatrical　wife.

Phoenix　Girl　had　done　nothing　to　deserve　such　a　fate.　She　was　innocent　and　unassuming.　And　Little　Liu　was　about　as　innocent　as　a　buck　rabbit.　But　the　man's　morals　did　not　worry　Pao　Ching　so　much　as　his　profession.　You　had　to　accept　your　friends　as　they　were.

One　day　he　invited　Little　Liu　to　take　a　bath　with　him,　in　the　best　bath　house　in　town.　It　was　the　first　time　he　had　ever　invited　the　little　musician.　Little　Liu　was　flattered.　His　delight　showed　all　over.　For　two　hours　they　talked　as　friends　in　the　steaming　bath　house.　Pao　Ching　led　the　conversation　to　everything　but　the　subject　on　his　mind.　He　took　careful　note,　however,　of　the　size　of　Little　Liu's　feet.　And　he　was　sure　he　had　it　exactly　by　the　time　their　afternoon　ended.

The　next　time　he　invited　Liu　to　take　a　bath　with　him　Pao　Ching　brought　with　him　a　packet.　He　presented　it　to　Little　Liu,　and　stood　to　watch　him　open　it.　And　Little　Liu　was　as　delighted　as　Pao　Ching　had　hoped.　The　gift　was　the　most　expensive　pair　of　satin　slippers　that　Pao　Ching　could　buy　anywhere　in　Chungking_slippers　fit　for　a　millionaire,　in　rich　fabric　and　good　taste.　As　Little　Liu　slipped　them　on　small　neat　feet,　pleasure　sparkled　in　his　eyes.　He　arched　his　chest　and　held　his　head　high.　So　they　were　close　now,　the　musical　artist　and　his　benefactor.

Pao　Ching　waited　his　opportunity,　like　an　expert　swords_man.　Hardly　had　the　talk　turned　to　women,　and　the　life　of　a　bachelor,　than　he　said　with　gentle　insistence,　“My　dear　friend,　why　are　you　not　married　—　a　man　of　your　talent　and　accomplishment.　I　have　often　wondered.　Is　there　no　one　you　like？"

Little　Liu　came　near　to　blushing.　His　lean　artistic　face　took　on　the　expression　of　a　shamed　school　boy.　Then　he　half　laughed　to　cover　his　embarrassment.　“There's　plenty　of　time　for　that.　I　am　young　yet.　My　art　takes　all　my　time,　you　know　how　it　is."　He　paused,　and　then　as　an　afterthought　he　added:　“Besides,　in　time　like　these,　it　isn't　easy　to　support　a　family.　Who　knows　what　may　happen？"

“But　if　you　married　someone　who　can　earn　a　living,　life　could　be　exceedingly　pleasant.　Two　people　working　to　support　one　home.　That's　the　modern　way,"　replied　Pao　Ching　artlessly.

Liu's　face　reddened　still　more.　He　looked　at　Pao　Ching　with　a　helpless,　lonely　expression　in　his　eyes.　This　kind　man,　this　great　artist　who　was　so　friendly　to　him.　He　was　almost　like　a　father.　Could　he　tell　him　his　troubles？　Tell　of　the　deep　frustration,　and　of　his　love　for　Jeweled　Lute？　The　Tangs　were　willing　to　give　her　to　him.　And　Liu　knew　why.　He　and　Jeweled　Lute　would　be　working　forever　to　keep　the　pair　of　them.　And　that　he　was　willing　to　do.　But　he　wanted　Jeweled　Lute　for　himself.　He　knew　her　failings,　and　he　shrank　from　the　idea　of　marrying　a　girl　whom　he　would　have　to　share　with　other　men.　The　thought　of　marriage　to　Jeweled　Lute　brought　another　desperate　worry.　His　own　health　was　fragile.　Jeweled　Lute　was　a　healthy　lusty　animal.　As　a　lover,　he　already　knew,　she　was　insatiable.　No　man　could　really　satisfy　her.　He　might　ruin　his　health　in　trying　to　be　a　good　husband,　and　his　music　might　suffer.　For　nights　now　he　had　been　tossing　sleeplessly,　wrestling　with　this　problem.　And　still　there　was　no　answer　nor　anyone　with　whom　to　discuss　it.　He　gave　Pao　Ching's　kindly　face　a　long　questioning　look.

And　then　he　said,　“My　dear　elder　brother,　suppose　..."　He　stopped　short.　Pao　Ching　did　not　like　Jeweled　Lute.　Could　he　put　his　problem　without　mentioning　her　by　name？

“Suppose　what？"　echoed　Pao　Ching.　“Don't　hold　anything　back.　We　are　friends,　aren't　we？"

“It's　about　me　and　Jeweled　Lute,"　Little　Liu　blurted　out.　He　made　an　explanatory　gesture　with　his　fingers.　“We　are　—　well,　you　know."

Pao　Ching　passed　his　hand　over　his　pate.　Then　he　said,　“That　is　good　news.　As　the　saying　goes,　I　would　rather　tear　down　seven　temples　than　break　up　a　marriage.　So　I　wish　you　happiness.　And　why　do　you　hesitate　to　get　married？"

Little　Liu　poured　out　his　troubles.　Pao　Ching　gave　him　no　advice.　Instead　he　asked,　“My　dear　younger　brother,　one　thing　I　would　like　to　know.　Are　you　satisfied　with　the　way　I　treat　you？　I　want　to　do　the　right　thing　by　you　—　always."

“Of　course,"　answered　Little　Liu　with　quick　enthusiasm,　“I　am　completely　satisfied.　You　are　kind　and　generous.　An　example　to　all."

“Thank　you.　But　if　you　were　married　to　Jeweled　Lute,　would　you　feel　eternally　obligated　to　the　Tangs,　and　forget　me？"

“Oh,no！"　Little　Liu　sounded　shocked.　“Never　shall　I　forget　how　wonderful　you　have　been　to　me.　And　believe　me,　elder　brother,　I　never　listen　to　what　others　say　against　you.　I　am　loyal　to　you,　because　you　treat　me　so　honorably.　Believe　me,　I　am　not　the　sort　who　says　one　thing　one　moment,　and　the　opposite　five　minutes　later."

“That's　fine.　I　appreciate　it,"　said　Pao　Ching.　“I　hope　that　you　and　Jeweled　Lute　will　always　be　happy.　And　I　hope　that　you　and　I　can　always　be　as　brothers.　You　know　I　have　always　liked　you.　Always　I　have　thought　how　fine　it　would　be　if　you　and　I　swore　a　pate　of　brotherhood　before　Heaven."　He　laughed.　“How　would　you　like　to　have　me　for　an　elder　brother,　Little　Liu？"

Little　Liu's　eyes　opened　wide.　He　looked　at　Pao　Ching　with　surprise,　delight,　and　doubt.　Then　he　smiled.　“But　you　are　a　famous　star,　and　I　am　a　humble　musician.　How　could　I　presume　to　have　you　for　an　elder　brother？　I　would　not　dare."

“Please　forget　such　things,"　commanded　Pao　Ching.　“Let　us　swear　our　pact　of　brotherhood　and　be　forever　brothers　in　the　sight　of　Heaven."

When　they　parted,　Pao　Ching　still　had　a　feeling　of　uncertainty.　He　had　won　a　battle　perhaps,　but　not　a　compaign.　Certainly　he　had　a　hold　on　Little　Liu,　but　he　was　not　altogether　happy.　Jeweled　Lute　and　her　mother　were　the　real　enemies.　Those　two　would　twist　Little　Liu　round　their　fingers,　if　they　decided.　What　worries　a　showman　could　have！

The　New　Year　was　coming.　Pao　Ching　decided　that　he　would　make　this　New　Year's　Day　a　particularly　happy　one.　If　he　arranged　a　special　celebration　the　family　would　not　be　so　homesick.　Besides　he　liked　entertaining.　He　felt　it　helped　to　create　a　harmonious　atmosphere　in　the　family.

He　gave　Mrs.　Fang　some　money　and　told　her　to　take　Phoenix　Girl　with　her　on　a　shopping　expedition.　She　was　a　good　shopper.　In　spite　of　her　drinking　and　uncertainty　of　mood,　she　knew　what　to　buy　and　the　right　price　to　pay.　Sometimes　he　himself　argued　the　shop　clerks　into　bargains,　but　she　always　convinced　him　she　could　do　better.

Getting　the　money　pleased　Mrs.　Fang　immensely.　To　celebrate,　she　had　a　drink.　Then　another,　and　another.　When　she　took　Phoenix　Girl　on　the　shopping　trip　she　was　barely　able　to　walk.　She　had　difficulty　keeping　her　eyes　open,　but　she　was　in　a　fine　mood　of　arguing.　The　Szechwan　shop_keepers　enjoyed　quarreling　over　their　wares　more　than　anything　else.　Mrs.　Fang　amused　them　no　end.　When　she　bought　a　catty　of　lima　beans,　on　general　good　principle　she　would　snatch　a　bunch　of　scallions　and　cram　it　into　her　bag.　So　she　and　her　daughter　were　soon　back,　loaded　with　purchases;　she　had　saved　enough　money　to　keep　herself　comfortably　in　liquor　for　many　days.

Pao　Ching　went　to　see　Useless　Fang,　his　brother.　He　gave　him　some　money　and　suggested　they　all　should　have　a　really　Happy　New　Year.

Useless　Fang　smiled　cynically.　“New　Year　in　this　godforsaken　country？　What　would　we　do　to　celebrate？　It's　out　of　the　question."　He　was　feeling　blue.　With　so　much　time　on　his　hands,　recently　he'd　been　worrying　about　his　age.　Above　everything　else　he　didn't　want　to　die　away　from　his　home　town.

“Oh,don't　talk　like　that,　dear　brother,"　Pao　Ching　laughed.　“The　further　we　are　away　from　home,　the　more　we　should　celebrate.　That's　why　I'm　giving　you　this　money.　I　want　you　to　have　a　good　time　and　do　whatever　you　wish.　Please　go　out　and　buy　yourself　something."

Useless　Fang　was　not　going　to　humble　himself　by　taking　the　money　from　his　brother.　He　pointed　to　the　table.　“I　don't　want　the　money,"　he　said,　“but　you　can　leave　it　over　there　—　on　the　table."

When　Pao　Ching　was　gone,　Useless　Fang　went　out.　Soon　he　found　a　market　where　he　bought　a　small　green　old_fashioned　lampstand,　a　little　stove　known　as　a　“cock_crowlamp"　for　steaming　food　slowly;　a　miniature　water　pipe　made　of　bamboo;　a　pair　of　simulated　jade　earrings;　and　a　ring　of　incense.　Back　home　he　wrapped　the　presents　in　red　paper　to　distribute　to　the　family　on　New　Year's　Eve.

Pao　Ching　looked　forward　to　the　New　Year　with　all　the　enthusiasm　of　an　eight_year_old　boy.　Whenever　he　whiffed　the　odor　of　cooking,　he　could　not　help　smacking　his　lips　in　anticipation　of　the　New　Year　feast.　And　he　took　pains　to　make　the　family　share　his　enthusiasm.　Soon　he　had　them　all　on　tiptoe　waiting　for　the　great　day.　Even　Phoenix　Girl　became　interested　in　helping　her　mother　in　the　kitchen.

Then　the　blow.　On　New　Year's　Eve　Pao　Ching's　troupe　was　hired　to　entertain　at　a　private　party.　Pao　Ching　was　grieved.　He　had　planned　this　party　at　home,　to　eat　a　festival　meal　with　his　family.　But　how　could　he　refuse　an　engagement？　He　had　to　think　of　the　others,　and　the　money　they　would　earn.　He　could　not　refuse　this　date,　however　much　it　hurt　his　heart　to　have　his　New　Year　celebrations　upset.

When　the　engagement　was　over　it　was　two　in　the　morning.　It　was　snowing　outside.　Lotus　Charm,　Little　Liu,　and　Pao　Ching　set　out　to　walk　through　the　narrow　streets,　the　snow　settling　on　their　clothes　and　melting　on　their　faces.　They　were　in　a　bad　mood.　Jeweled　Lute　had　not　shown　up　for　the　private　engagement,　and　Little　Liu　was　quite　sure　she　was　off　with　a　man.　He　was　furious　to　think　that　he　had　missed　a　New　Year's　dinner　with　the　Tangs_for　nothing.　And　Lotus　Charm　was　tearful　and　despondent.

Pao　Ching　cupped　his　hands　to　his　mouth,　and　shouted　for　a　litter.　But　his　voice　was　lost　in　the　curtain　of　snow.　The　litter　carriers　were　at　home　celebrating　the　New　Year.　The　streets　were　empty　except　for　the　Pao　Ching　players　and　the　snowflakes.　They　trudged　on.　Occasionally　they　came　to　a　house　whose　light　still　showed　from　behind　the　shades　over　the　windows.　And　they　heard　the　laughter　of　the　people　inside　around　their　festive　tables.　Lotus　Charm's　eyes　filled　with　tears.

Suddenly　a　litter　appeared,　a　dark　mass　moving　unsteadily　through　the　snow.　Pao　Ching　hailed　it.　He　didn't　wait　for　the　litter　men　to　argue.　He　dipped　his　hand　in　his　pocket　and　brought　out　a　handful　of　silver　coins.

But　who　was　to　ride　and　who　was　to　walk？　One　litter　would　not　take　all　of　them.　Little　Liu　suddenly　ashamed　of　all　the　complaints　he　had　made.　“Let　Lotus　Charm　ride,"　he　said,　“I　can　walk."

“You　get　in,"　Pao　Ching　ordered.　“We　enjoy　walking.　You　must　not　risk　your　health.　Step　up,　I　beg　you."

Little　Liu　got　into　the　litter.　He　was　pleased　at　the　deference　shown　him　by　his　elder　brother.　He　smiled　and　waved　his　hand.　“Dear　elder　brother,"　he　said,　“I　shall　pay　you　a　New　Year　call　—　most　certainly."

Pao　Ching　and　Lotus　Charm　stood　watching　the　litter　disappear　in　the　darkness.　Lotus　Charm　was　tired.　Her　collar　was　turned　up　and　she　had　hidden　her　face　behind　it.

“Come,　daughter,"　said　Pao　Ching,　“let　us　walk.　Are　you　very　tired？"

She　walked　a　few　steps　before　answering.　“No,　I　am　not　tired,"　she　said.　But　her　voice　sounded　as　if　she　was　exhausted.　Pao　Ching　was　tired　too.　He　felt　guilty　that　he　and　his　daughter　should　be　in　the　streets　while　others　were　celebrating.

But　with　an　air　of　cheerfulness　he　said,　“Lotus　Charm,　with　the　coming　of　the　New　Year　you　are　another　year　older　—　fifteen.　Did　you　remember　that？　This　year　you　should　be　determined　to　do　better　at　your　work."

Lotus　Charm　did　not　answer.　After　a　while　Pao　Ching　began　again,　“Well,　we　are　making　good　money　now　—　so　much　that　you　should　be　able　to　make　a　respectable　marriage."

“Why　talk　about　that,　father？"　she　inquired　sharply.　She　was　looking　at　her　feet.　Her　shoes　were　ruined;　and　they　were　almost　new.

“Because　it　is　important.　Every　girl　should　be　able　to　make　a　good　marriage."

Her　silence　chilled　him.　They　walked　on.　She　was　wondering　why　her　father　always　had　to　talk　business.　And　what　difference　did　his　earning　more　money　make　to　her　getting　married？

They　were　home　at　last.　Pao　Ching　clapped　his　hands　and　jumped　up　and　down　like　a　school　boy.　“Home　at　last.　We're　home　at　last,"　he　kept　saying.　He　hoped　that　someone　would　come　out　to　meet　them,　but　they　walked　upstairs　alone,　their　dripping　clothes　making　pools　of　water　as　they　went.

Mrs.　Fang　was　already　drunk.　She　had　gone　to　sleep　on　the　bed,　and　was　snoring.　Useless　Fang　was　in　Lotus　Charm's　room　talking　to　Phoenix　Girl.　They　both　looked　as　gay　as　a　funeral　party.　Useless　Fang　was　drunk　enough　to　be　argumentative.　“Money,　money,　money,"　he　was　saying　to　Phoenix　Girl,　“what　does　it　matter.　And　why　do　they　have　to　make　money　on　New　Year's　Eve　of　all　days.　Life　is　too　short.　How　many　more　New　Year's　Eves　will　they　have？"

Pao　Ching　slumped　into　an　armchair　in　the　living　room.　The　red　candles　were　still　alight.　They　flickered　before　his　misting　eyes　like　yellow　stars.　Money...　money...　money...　was　it　worthwhile？

Lotus　Charm　went　inside　her　room　and　lay　down.

“Come　on,　niece,　"　invited　Useless　Fang.　“Come　and　play　some　cards.　Aren't　you　going　to　let　your　old　uncle　win　a　few　pennies？"

“No,　uncle,"　she　said,　her　young　voice　ragged　with　weariness,　“I　want　to　sleep."　She　turned　her　face　to　the　wall.

Useless　Fang　sighed.　He　got　up　and　went　to　the　window,　and　looked　at　the　falling　snowflakes.　“Poor　child！Poor　Lotus！"　he　whispered,　and　shook　his　graying　head.