It was a life of solitude yet teeming, like those sequestered spots, blooming unknown, which I had sometimes found in the depths of woods when gathering the flowers for my poems.
Little Red-Cap, however, had been running about picking flowers, and when she had gathered so many that she could carry no more, she remembered her grandmother, and set out on the way to her.
You, Mother, can then take some of the palace servants to the Agate Tower to pick flowers, which will certainly lure that nasty little bitch out of the building so that she can look at you.