"Anything thou mayst ask," was Naomi's reckless answer. The lamb had put out a limp pink tongue and was licking her fingers.
"Thy poppies?"
Ezra had heard his aunt say that very day, "I need poppies sorely for my brew for the palsy, and not a single one has bloomed in the khan garden this year."
Surely four poppies would be worth a rich cake or two, or perhaps even a piece of money.
"My poppies?" Naomi looked aghast. "My poppies? All four? Why, there is just one apiece! Father and Mother, thou and Jonas! My poppies?"
The lamb stirred and with a little sigh of content snuggled his nose into the palm of Naomi's hand.
"Take them!" Naomi stood up and gathered the lamb in her arms. "Take them, only let me not see thee."
She turned her back upon Ezra and shut her eyes.
Quickly he gathered the flowers and ran out of the garden.
Naomi opened her eyes. She gave one look at her despoiled flower-bed and bent again over the lamb.