"I should like that.

I should not mind fresh air in a secret garden." Mary began to recover her breath and feel safer because the idea of keeping the secret seemed to please him.

She felt almost sure that if she kept on talking and could make him see the garden in his mind as she had seen it he would like it so much that he could not bear to think that everybody might tramp into it when they chose.
"I'll tell you what I _think_ it would be like, if we could go into it," she said.

"It has been shut up so long things have grown into a tangle perhaps." He lay quite still and listened while she went on talking about the roses which _might_ have clambered from tree to tree and hung down--about the many birds which _might_ have built their nests there because it was so safe.

And then she told him about the robin and Ben Weatherstaff, and there was so much to tell about the robin and it was so easy and safe to talk about it that she ceased to feel afraid.