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At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. ” “I can’t be portentous, dear, when you’re about. ” She looked at him quizzically. Blood, they say, won't come out. There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. I'll tell you what. " Silence. "When you're older, you'll know that secrets of importance are not disclosed gratuitously.
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