The Emperor gazed at her intently. How abundantly supplied with life she was! Her soft arms were a refuge whenever the cares of state became too heavy to bear. He fretted for the candle of day to burn out that he might abandon himself to the divine comfort of her body. What need had he to deny her anything, since her surrender was so unqualified? Still she was a droll little creature.
"Adopt him?" he repeated meditatively.
"Yes," she whispered. "Would he not make you a splendid son?"
"There is no denying that, but he looks old enough to be your father."
"And large enough to be your grandfather," broke in An Lu-shan affably, in no way disconcerted by the conversation. He had difficulty keeping his jubilation from showing. Such an arrangement would naturally lead to a measure of proximity. Few women had opposed him for long. Perhaps even the resistance of Yang Kuei-fei would eventually crumble. He brushed aside the peril of such an enterprise. The spoils were large enough to outweigh danger.
Yang Kuei-fei pretended to be vexed. "Do not treat me as a child!" she exclaimed petulantly.
Almost in panic, visioning the vanishing of his night's enchantment, the Emperor bowed to her wishes, and the bow was so low it was almost groveling.
"Be not offended," he said quickly. "I have given your suggestion the most careful consideration. I am in perfect accord."
