"It isn't shopping, my dear," he said. "It's more like a gift. You see, if I didn't give things away now and again, to the right people, I'd be drowning in trinkets." He smiled at her. This was true, although not his actual motivation for handing things out at the fair.
When he turned around again, he was holding a small box, which he set on the table between where he stood and where the woman stood. When he removed the lid, he revealed a wind-up toy. It was a penguin, smiling, with bright eyes and orange feet.
If his life depended on it, he could not have told the woman why it needed to be hers. It just did.