There's a soft, melodious giggle, a swish of fabrics and hair, and then a kiss each pressed to Josef's cheeks. "Sometimes, yes. When inspiration strikes, I even sing, if I have an appreciative spectator."

Tilting his head, he gives Josef an enigmatic, assessing look, then decides to slide his hand into the crook of his arm and walk beside him beneath the parasol.

"I would never claim to have made it," he says all in tones of apology. "I looked for a proper gift to present you with, at the bazaar, and found this. I thought it might suit your...particulars."