"Good morning," said the little prince.
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"Where are the men?" the little prince asked, politely.
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The little prince crossed the desert and met with only one flower. It was a flower with three petals, a flower of no account at all.
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The flower had once seen a caravan passing.
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"Men?" she echoed. "I think there are six or seven of them in existence. I saw them, several years ago. But one never knows where to find them. The wind blows them away. They have no roots, and that makes their life very difficult."
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"Goodbye," said the little prince.
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"Good morning," said the flower.
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"Goodbye," said the flower.
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