Oh, don t don t don t don t do that! she cried out.
He stared as if he thought she had gone crazy!
Why? he exclaimed. You said you wanted to see it.
I do, she answered almost with a sob in her throat, but if you make
them open the door and take you in like that it will never be a secret
again.
He leaned still farther forward.
A secret, he said. What do you mean? Tell me.
Mary s words almost tumbled over one another.
You see you see, she panted, if no one knows but ourselves if there
was a door, hidden somewhere under the ivy if there was and we could
find it; and if we could slip through it together and shut it behind
us, and no one knew anyone was inside and we called it our garden and
pretended that that we were missel thrushes and it was our nest, and if
we played there almost every day and dug and planted seeds and made it
all come alive
Is it dead? he interrupted her.
It soon will be if no one cares for it, she went on. The bulbs will
live but the roses
He stopped her again as excited as she was herself.
What are bulbs? he put in quickly.
They are daffodils and lilies and snowdrops. They are working in the
earth now pushing up pale green points because the spring is coming.
Is the spring coming? he said. What is it like? You don t see it in
rooms if you are ill.
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