He was surprised by this absence of reproaches. He stood there all bewildered, the glass globe held arrested in mid-air. He did not understand this quiet sweetness.

Of course I love you, the flower said to him. It is my fault that you have not known it all the while. That is of no importance. But you-- you have been just as foolish as I . Try to be happy . . . Let the glass globe be. I don't want it any more."

But the wind--

"My cold is not so bad as all that . . . The cool night air will do me good. I am a flower."
"But the animals--"

Well, I must endure the presence of two or three caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies. It seems that they are very beautiful. And if not the butterflies-- And the caterpillars-- who will call upon me? You will be far away . . . As for the large animals-- I am not at all afraid of any of them. I have my claws.

And, naïvely, she showed her four thorns. Then she added:

Don't linger like this. You have decided to go away. Now go!"

For she did not want him to see her crying. She was such a proud flower . . .

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