"He wouldn't like me," said Mary in her stiff, cold little way. "No one does."Martha looked reflective again.
"How does tha' like thysel'?" she inquired, really quite as if she were curious to know.
Mary hesitated a moment and thought it over.
"Not at all--really," she answered. "But I never thought of that before."
The Secret Garden, by Frances Hodgson Burnett
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