She waved her cigarette hand with a once delicate gesture and flame light glinted dully on the gold band. "Please don't get up for me," she said, but her tone was condescending and the three visitors sat down respectfully. Miss Bestris crossed to her desk; she perched on a corner of it, leaned back, blew smoke. "You wanted to see me about your girls?" Two of the people, man and wife, looked at each other. "Yes," they said. And the other man said, "Yes." "Did you bring any pictures?" They handed her pictures, and she held them up to the overhead torch. She studied them critically, pursing and unpursing her lips in secret calculation. "This one," she said finally, holding out one of the pictures. The man and wife rustled their clothing; they smiled faintly proud at each other. The other man got up slowly, retrieved his picture, left the room without saying a word. "We can't do for little Lavada," the woman whined. "She was a late child, and we're getting old, and we thought she would be better here. It's hard to do for a growing girl when you get old. And my husband can't keep steady work, because of his health and ..." "I'm sure she will be happy here," the Madame said, smiling. "Yes," the man agreed. "It's for the best. But--you know--well, we hate to do it." "How old is she?" "... Fourteen." Miss Bestris studied the picture again. "She doesn't look over twelve." "She's fourteen." "And healthy--" "We have doctors to see to that," the Madame said. "How much did you have in mind?" "Well," the man said, "it's been a month now since I worked, and with debts and everything...." "And something to put aside for winter," his wife added. "We couldn't take less than a _milli dordoc_." "And we wouldn't even think of it, but we don't have a scrap of bread in the house." "And all our bills, and winter coming on...." Miss Bestris turned the picture this way and that. The parents waited. The woman cleared her throat. The man shuffled his feet. The clock on the wall went tick-tick, tick-tick. "I'll give you eight hundred and thirty _dordocs_," the Madame said. "Well...." Miss Bestris bent forward, holding out the picture. "Here, then. Take it. I wouldn't offer that, but I need a girl right now. One of mine ran away last week, and I'm afraid she won't be able to work for a month or so after they bring her back. I'm being generous. Eight hundred and thirty, or take your picture and don't waste my time." The man and woman stared at her. And the clock went _tick-tick_. "Take it, Chav." "... All right," the man said. "We need the money." Miss Bestris leaned across the desk, pressed a button on her panel. Almost immediately, a door slid silently open and her lawyer entered with a white, printed, standard-form sales contract in his hand. Efficiently and rapidly, he entered the particulars. "Sign here," he said, and the parents signed.