"I wonder who will tell her," I heard somebody say, just outside the arbour. The somebody was a woman; and the somebody else who answered was a man. "Glad it won't be me " he replied, ungrammatically. I didn't know who these somebodies were, and I didn't much care. For the first instant the one thing I did care about was, that they should remain outside my arbour, instead of finding their way in. Then, the next words waked my interest. They sounded mysterious, and I loved mysteries-then.