“Ask them not to tell,” George had suggested.
Impossible to think of such a thing: it would be to teach them deceit.
“Well, I'll ask them.”
“But that would be just as bad. No—if they tell, it cannot be helped. And after all—”
“Well, after all...?”
“After all—what would it matter?”
George said: “It would matter to me—a lot.”
He glanced at her, but she was looking after Angela and David. He asked: “Wouldn't it matter to you?”
She flushed a little; answered, with her eyes still averted towards the children, “Why—why, of course I should mind. I mean—”
But there are meanings for which it is difficult to find clothes in which they may decently take the air; and here the wardrobe of Mary's mind stood wanting.