I should think he wouldn't want me to live." "Do you want to live ?" inquired Mary.
"No," he answered, in a cross, tired fashion.

"But I don't want to die.
When I feel ill I lie here and think about it until I cry and cry." "I have heard you crying three times," Mary said, "but I did not know who it was.

Were you crying about that ?" She did so want him to forget the garden.
"I dare say," he answered.

"Let us talk about something else.

Talk about that garden.