“How absurd,” she said to herself. “How do you know it’s ‘Atlantis blue?’ ”

Within a few minutes the glass snail was back in its box, wrapped in the gold paper and tied with streamer and bow. It was all ready to be given as a gift.

At that moment the doorbell rang. The visitor had brought a bottle of wine. And that warm voice. She sat him down at the table and seated herself next to him. She picked up four walnuts and threw one into each corner of the room, thereby conferring on it the sign of the cross. Then she opened a drawer, withdrew the box with the glass snail, and gave it to the young man.

“This is a Christmas present from me,” she said and kissed him. His eyes stared in astonishment, and like a child, he excitedly tore off the gold paper and took out the glass snail. He was visibly taken aback.

“Is it possible that you didn’t know what was in the box?” asked Miss Hatshepsut.

“No, I didn’t,” he rejoined.

“Disappointed?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“No. It’s lovely. Thank you!” Then he gave her a hug.

“And I’ve got a present for you,” he added in an effort to smooth matters over. He took from his pocket the red-and-white gift bag scattered with tiny mirrors. Miss Hatshepsut unwrapped the present and inside discovered the familiar lighter with the inscription about fulfilling a wish. Miss Hatshepsut was a little concerned about the way the evening was going. Now it was her turn to be disappointed. And, in like fashion, trying to smooth things over she said, “I know your name.”