So the little prince, in spite of the goodwill his love engendered towards her, came gradually to doubt her. He had taken words of no importance seriously and became very unhappy. ' I shouldn't have listened to her,' he confided to me one day, ' one should never listen to flowers. One must admire them and breathe their fragrance. Mine perfumed all my planet, but I did not know how to enjoy her. That tale of claws which irritated me so much should simply have touched my heart…' And he confided further: 'At the time, I was unable to understand anything! I should have based my judgement upon deeds and not words. She cast her fragrance and radiance over me. I should have never run away from her! I should have guessed at the afternoon behind her poor little tricks. Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her.'