Dickon: The animals tell me all their secrets.
Mary: [pointing to the Robin] He wouldn’t tell you my secret, would he?
Dickon: About what, Miss Mary?
Mary: A garden. I’ve stolen a garden. But it may already be dead, I don’t know.
Dickon: I’ll know.
Mary: Promise you won’t tell anyone?
Mary: No one?
Dickon: Not a soul.