Francie had kept her eyes on the ground; the others were all now rather unnaturally smiling. “Won’t they forgive me ever?” she asked, looking up.
“Yes, perfectly, if you can persuade me not to stick to you. But in that case what good will their forgiveness do you?”
“Well, perhaps it’s better to pay for it,” the girl went on.
“To pay for it?”
“By suffering something. For it WAS dreadful,” she solemnly gloomily said.
“Oh for all you’ll suffer—!” Gaston protested, shining down on her.
“It was for you—only for you, as I told you,” Francie returned.
“Yes, don’t tell me again—I don’t like that explanation! I ought to let you know that my father now declines to do anything for me,” the young man added to Mr. Dosson.
“To do anything for you?”
“To make me any allowance.”