"Nothing," said Honora in her dead voice. "If I kept a diary, I would be like that sad king of France who recorded 'Rien' each day."
Kate made a practical answer.
"We must pack," she said.
"But the house--"
"Let it stand empty if the owner can't find a tenant. Pay your rent till he does, if that's in the contract. What difference does all that make? Get out where you'll have a chance to recuperate."
"Oh, Kate, do you think I ever shall? How does a person recuperate from shame?"
"There isn't really any shame to you in what others do," Kate said.
"But you--you'll have to go somewhere."
"So I shall. Don't worry about me. I shall take good care of myself."
Honora looked about her with the face of a spent runner.