"I wish you'd tell me. Because we'd be on the same side, then. I ask God every day to keep me on the right side, the inside you know, and not to let me run out."
"Hi! Tom! Where's my box?"
Peter's shrill voice coming up the garden-path interrupted them. There was no more opportunity for serious talk. Tom took the children to the backyard where he was working, and for half an hour they stayed there chattering and watching him complete Peter's egg-box. Then they left him, and went on to the woods, where they had a very happy time.
Coming home, Harebell said:
"Haven't we had a jolly afternoon? And isn't Tom Triggs nice? Quite different to when he was drinking!"
Peter edged up to her.
"I want to tell you a secret. Go on, Nan; it isn't for you."
Nan laughed.
"I'm not a bit curious. You never have interesting secrets, Peter."
She obligingly crossed the road. Peter sank his voice to a whisper.