"Hello, mom," Edgar said in front of his mother's grave that afternoon. "Hello, my queen. These flowers are for you."
"For me?" he thought he heard her reply.
"Yes, for you. Nanny picked them from the garden. Oh, you can't imagine what a beautiful garden we have. Everything is in bloom. You'd be proud of it. You'd love it."
"And of you, I am proud," he thought he heard her voice.
"You know, mom," Edgar continued with affection, "I asked dad to make our library public, and he agreed."
"Very good."
"He said he'll throw an opening party."
"And you?"
"I agreed, but you know what I think about these parties. They'll all be dad's friends, and if I'm lucky, only half of them will annoy me."
"But you know how important these gatherings are for Alfred."
"Yes, I know," Edgar nodded. "He has a great time."
"And you? Why don't you have fun?"
Edgar lowered his head, placed the flowers on the grave, and whispered,
"I can't..."
Then he raised his head, forcing a smile, and said about the flowers,
"Next time, I'll come with seeds, I promise."