I happened to meet Gilberte. She was in her attic of passage Julien-Lacroix and coincidentally I was on the other side of the door when she opened it to leave. I took advantage of the coincidence to give her a bouquet of daisies that I happened to carry in my hand. You never know when you’re going to need a daisy, so sometimes I carry a bouquet, just in case. Gilberte was overjoyed to see me, but wasn’t able to express it and accused me of spying on her. She grabbed the bouquet and threw the flowers in my face. A clear demonstration of affection. Do you see now how useful is sometimes a bouquet of daisies? Although it is clear that Gilberte loves me, my feelings towards her are confusing. I would like to love her in return, but I can not feel the slightest emotion in her presence. (I only felt something that time that she was about to throw me off the balcony, but I don’t know if panic is a significant feeling in a love affair. Fortunately, I have a good denture with which I managed to grab the railing.) It is exasperating to be in such a state of uncertainty! I spend many hours consulting the decision of the daisy: “I love her… I love her not”. I just hope that the method is reliable. You see? This is another of the many uses of daisies.