There was no escape from him.

They stood face to face.
The young man approached her with friendly courtesy, and a conversation on some general topic began.

Rudolf remarked that the flowers in the garden around them were as wondrously beautiful, as if they were sensible of the close proximity of their mistress, and did not wish to be inferior to her in beauty.
"I love flowers," stammered Fanny, as if she felt obliged to answer something.
"Ah, if only your ladyship were acquainted with them!" Fanny looked at him inquiringly.
"Yes, if only your ladyship knew the flowers, not merely by name, but through the medium of that world of fancy which is bound up with the life of the flowers! Every flower has its own life, desires, inclinations, grief and sorrows, love and anguish, just as much as we have.

The imaginations of our poets give to each of them its own characteristics, and associates little fables with them, some of which are very pretty.

Indeed, you will find much that is interesting in the ideal lives of the flowers." Here Rudolf broke off an iris from a side-bed.
"Look, here is a happy family, three husbands and three wives, each husband close beside his wife.