'Jawohl! round here. Up high! Shee!' The man pointed with his whip to the rocky heights. 'She grow up very high, dat vlower you give to your loaf!'
'Loaf?'
'Jawohl!' The man winked, put his hand to his heart. 'To your loaf—shatz! You undershtand.'
Philip flushed dark. He was hot with walking.
'Let me have some of that flower. You shall have it back. No, thank you, not your hat.'
The man pulled the blossoms out from the dirty ribbon that retained them. 'Dey is dry. But you should shee when dey fresh.'
Philip took the little flowers to the side of the carriage.
'Look at these,' he said. 'The man calls them—no, I cannot say the name.'
'Edelweiss,' said Salome; 'I have seen it dried in the shop windows. It is rare.'
'Edelweiss means the noble white flower,' said Miss Durham. 'It grows far from human habitation, and is much sought after. I have never found it myself, and never had any fresh picked given to me.'