"No. You see I have a little card on him 'Not for sale.'"
He nodded. "I should like to buy him—"
She shook her head. "I have refused many offers."
"I can understand that. Yet, perhaps if I should tell you?"
There was a slight trace of foreign accent in his speech. She stiffened. She felt that he was capable of calling her "Fräulein." There was not the least doubt in her mind as to the Teutonic extraction of this gentleman who was shamelessly trying to induce her to sell her elephant.
"I can't imagine any reason that would make me change my mind."
"My father is German; he makes toys."
She showed her surprise. "Makes toys?"
"Yes. He is an old man—eighty-five. He was born in Nuremberg. Until he was twenty-five he made elephants like the one in your window. Now do you see?"
She was not sure that she did see. "Well?"