g's reluctant eyes to
another line--the unfortunate exaction of fifty taels in return for
the guarantee that the robe should be permeated with the spirit of
rejuvenation. As the undoubted embroiderer of the robe--one Min of the
family of Hsi--had admittedly Passed Beyond almost with the last
stitch, it was evident that she could only have conveyed by her touch
an entirely contrary emanation. If, as Shen Heng never ceased to
declare, Min was still somewhere alive, let her be produced and a
fitting token of reconciliation would be forthcoming; otherwise,
although with the acutest reluctance, it would be necessary to carry
the claim to the court of the chief District Mandarin, and (Cheng Lin
trembled at the sacrilegious thought) it would be impossible to
conceal the fact that Shen Heng employed persons of inauspicious omen,
and the high repute of coffin cloths from the Golden Abacus would be
lost. The hint arrested Shen Heng's fingers in the act of tearing out
a handful of his beautiful pigtail. For the first time he noticed,
with intense self-reproach, that Lin was not reclining on a couch.

The amiable discussion that followed, conducted with discriminating
dignity by Shen Heng and conscientious humility on the part of Cheng
Lin, extended from one gong-stroke before noon until close upon the
time for the evening rice. The details arrived at were that Shen Heng
should deliver to Lin eight-hundred and seventy-five taels against the
return of the robe. He would also press upon that person a silk purse
with an onyx clasp, containing twenty-five taels, as a deliberate mark
of his individual appreciation and quite apart from anything to do
with the transaction on hand. All suggestions of anything other than
the strictest high-mindedness were withdrawn from both sides. In order
that the day should not be wholly destitute of sunshine at the Golden
Abacus, Lin declared his intention of purchasing, at a price not
exceeding three taels and a half, the oldest and most unattractive
burial robe that the stock contained. So moved was Shen Heng by this
delicate consideration that he refused to accept more than two taels
and three-quarters. Moreover, he added for Lin's acceptance a small
jar of crystallized limpets.

To those short-sighted ones who profess to discover in the conduct of
Cheng Lin (now an official of the seventeenth grade and drawing his
quarterly sufficiency of taels in a distant province) something not
absolutely honou