"You know him, then?" cried Bilbette with an orgasm of joy.
"No, I only guess," said the Count. "I once met a Lord Adam who did good deeds anonymously, from some caprice or other, without ever letting his identity be known. Occasionally he would go about in blue with a red cape. Rather bizarre."
"Oh, if you know him, monsieur, tell us, tell us, can you bring us to him? Like to the citizens of Mina Tiretta had we given him lilies with full hands, and even mushrooms!"
Monte Fato felt two tears stream down his cheek. "Alas," he said. "If it be indeed Lord Adam, I fear you will never find him. I last saw him departing for the lands of Far Harade, and fear he will never return from the seragli thereof."
"You are cruel, monsieur," said Bilbette.
"Madame," said the Count gravely, regarding the tears that glistened upon the cheeks of Bilbette like two enormous silmarils upon the pearls of the Naouglamir, and seeing in her greater depth of feeling than any debate about the uniforms of the Uruc-haïs. "Could Lord Adam have seen what I see here, he would rejoice more than if the One Ring were to give him dominion over all the earth, or if the pipe-weed of Gandault were to come into his possession." And he extended a hand to Bilbette, who held it more rapturously than she had, had it been the hand of Trolquien.
