“That would have been like holding you up for payment of the bet, wouldn’t it? I was waiting for you to speak.”
“Not good form in Caracuña. The señor should always speak first.”
“You began the other time,” he pointed out.
“So I did, but that was under a misapprehension. I hadn’t learned the customs of the country then. By the way, is it a local custom for hermits of science to climb breakneck precipices for golden-hearted orchids to send to casual acquaintances?”
“Is that what you are?” he queried in a slightly depressed tone.
“What on earth else could I be?” she returned, amused.
“Of course. But we all like to pretend that our fairy tales are permanent, don’t we?”
“I can readily picture you chasing beetles, but I can’t see you chasing fairies at all,” she asserted positively.
“Nor can I. If you chase them, they vanish. Every one knows that.”
“Anyway, your orchids were fit for a fairy queen. I haven’t thanked you for them yet.”