“One flower only. It is not mine. A friend in Africa asked me to—well, that is a long story which might not interest you.”
“I’m not sure. I suppose it must be a Cymbidium scape from the size.”
I shook my head. “That’s not the name my friend mentioned. He called it a Cypripedium.”
The young man began to grow curious. “One Cypripedium in all that large case? It must be a big flower.”
“Yes, my friend said it is the biggest ever found. It measures twenty-four inches across the wings, petals I think he called them, and about a foot across the back part.”
“Twenty-four inches across the petals and a foot across the dorsal sepal!” said the young man in a kind of gasp, “and a Cypripedium! Sir, surely you are joking?”
“Sir,” I answered indignantly, “I am doing nothing of the sort. Your remark is tantamount to telling me that I am speaking a falsehood. But, of course, for all I know, the thing may be some other kind of flower.”
“Let me see it. In the name of the goddess Flora let me see it!”
I began to undo the case. Indeed it was already half-open when two other gentlemen, who had either overheard some of our conversation or noted my companion’s excited look, edged up to us. I observed that they also wore orchids in their buttonholes.
“Hullo! Somers,” said one of them in a tone of false geniality, “what have you got there?”