In a few moments, she was joined by a middle-aged, sharp-eyed gulden man who was trying to size her up with one quick glance and failing. Kit smiled to herself. He was smart enough not to make the obvious assumption—high-caste blueskin, I must curry her favor—and businessman enough to be ready to listen.

“Good morning, hela,” he said graciously enough. “I’m willing to hear about your charitable requests. But I must tell you that now is not a good time for me. Our tables are reserved for luncheon, and my entire staff is quite busy.”

“May I take five minutes to state my case? Or should I return some other day? Tomorrow perhaps?”

“If you can tell me quickly, I will hear the outline and then ask you back later in the week for details.”

“I am with the charity bank in the women’s ghetto on the west side of town,” Kit said baldly. “You may have heard of us. We have many corporate sponsors and many individual contributors as well. We thought you might be willing to help us out.”

Dort shrugged. “We’re a new business. We are not yet certain of our profits.”

Kit nodded. “Of course not. But at the end of the day, if there is food that you would throw away because you have not sold it and cannot save it for the next day, we would be glad to take that food off your hands. We would send someone to collect it. A few loaves of bread or a pile of fruit. Whatever you happened to have.”

Dort looked intrigued but, as he glanced at his watch, harassed as well. “It is an interesting proposition, hela,” he said. “If we could mention this charity in some of our advertising—”

“We would hope you would do so,” Kit said quickly. “That benefits us as well and puts our name before others who might wish to become benefactors.”

“I’ll mention it to my partner,” he said. “If he agrees—”

“When should I come back to hear your answer?”

“Three mornings from now. I will know by then.”

“You’re kind. I’ll see you then.”

“And your name, hela? In case my partner asks.”

A name his blueskin partner was sure to recognize even if Dort did not. Kit did not even allow her muscles to tense as she replied, “Kitrini Solvano Candachi.” Her own name, her father’s, her mother’s. Dort’s eyes widened involuntarily, but he wiped the look away quickly.

“And so I shall tell him,” he said. “In three days, then.”