Five pieces of jade

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Yumeko did not need to open the draperies that covered the large front window to look down the street; she simply drew back one corner and put her head close to the glass. In fact the draperies were seldom opened because Mr. Wang preferred to have them closed. And since it was Mr. Wang's house, and he was the master of it in the fullest sense of the word, they continued to shut out both the bright light of day and the view of neighbors who might display undue curiosity concerning what was going on inside.

Far down the street, making his slow way closer, she saw the mailman. His stubby little vehicle, she knew, would be filled with information, news, and some goods which he would mete out in small portions along the length of his route. Much of what he had would be either routine or unwanted; the remainder would be the vital part, good news and bad already at least a day or two old, but which would not become known until the delivery had been completed. Yumeko had little anticipation of her own. It was because of Mr. Wang that she was anxious for the man in the red, white, and blue vehicle to reach their driveway and give them what was theirs. What he did after that was no concern of hers, at least not for another twenty-four hours.

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