She would prefer he be clear on what kind of young lady she is. Which is to say, neither the marrying kind or the... [her pause is only half to do with the jerk of the boat, the way all the color (what little there is of it) drains from her face in reply] Well. As I said. She is very honest.

With respect for flowers, I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea. For now say wild daisies, as they would suit her hair and your friend would have to get fetch then himself. But if you would be so kind as to temper Serah Loxley's expectations, I might find out.

—You look almost as ill as I feel, by the way.