"Don't take those tulips," said the flowerseller I always go to. "Those won't last a whole week." Instead she pointed me to some others that would last longer. Then, even though the market was almost over, she went to the truck to get me a better bouquet of roses, not the last bunch that had been sitting out all morning.
I arrived home with an armful of flowers and set about putting them in vases as I talked to A. "The flower lady is so nice," I said. "She always makes sure I have the best flowers."
"What does she do with all the other flowers?" A asked.
Ah! That's the trouble! In France, you want the commerçant to know you. Otherwise, watch what you're given!
