nest and must move softly. When she stepped to the wall and lifted the
hanging ivy he started. There was a door and Mary pushed it slowly open
and they passed in together, and then Mary stood and waved her hand
round defiantly.
It s this, she said. It s a secret garden, and I m the only one in
the world who wants it to be alive.
Dickon looked round and round about it, and round and round again.
Eh! he almost whispered, it is a queer, pretty place! It s like as
if a body was in a dream.
CHAPTER XI.
THE NEST OF THE MISSEL THRUSH
For two or three minutes he stood looking round him, while Mary watched
him, and then he began to walk about softly, even more lightly than
Mary had walked the first time she had found herself inside the four
walls. His eyes seemed to be taking in everything the gray trees with
the gray creepers climbing over them and hanging from their branches,
the tangle on the walls and among the grass, the evergreen alcoves with
the stone seats and tall flower urns standing in them.
I never thought I d see this place, he said at last, in a whisper.
Did you know about it? asked Mary.
She had spoken aloud and he made a sign to her.
We must talk low, he said, or someone ll hear us an wonder what s
to do in here.
Oh! I forgot! said Mary, feeling frightened and putting her hand
quickly against her mouth. Did you know about the garden? she asked
again when she had recovered herself.
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