The woman very fond of it. You make her like you.”
This being what I wished her to do, I did as friend Kotmasu desired, expending three yen (12 s.) upon a box at Yan’s, the best druggist in Nagasaki, and paying at least four times its original price. The only satisfaction I have is the knowledge that my mother-in-law’s complexion is of the best!
Mousmé clearly is to-night all for going down to Madame Choto’s, but I have one trump card to play against that. I am destined to find it in the future—as in the past—of great service. I have merely to say, “Let us go and look at the shops.”
“Yes, yes,” answers Mousmé with alacrity, clapping her small hands.
And so it is settled.
The recollection of Madame Choto and the little brothers and sisters she was half a minute ago so bent on visiting, speedily fades from her mind.
