On the morning of his departure he put his planet in perfect order. He carefully cleaned out his active volcanoes and pulled the last little shoots of the baobabs. He believed that he would never want to return. 

"Goodbye," he said to the flower.

The flower coughed. But it was not because she had a cold.

"I have been silly," she said to him, at last. "I ask your forgiveness. Try to be happy..."

He was surprised by this absence of reproaches, he did not understand this quiet sweetness.

"Of course I love you," the flower said to him. 

"Don't linger like this. You have decided to go away. Now go!"

For she did not want him to see her crying. She was such a proud flower...