“If you do that something, what will happen?”
“Apparently nothing, only I—”
“I understand,” said Honora. “The thing you have got to do is wrong. Suppose you don’t do it—”
“Then—then—oh, Honora—I could wish to-night that I had never lived to grow up to my present age. I’m nearly mad with misery!”
“I will come to you in the morning,” said Honora. “But before I go, I wish to say something—that of course you won’t do whatever the thing is; for if you keep yourself right, other things must come right somehow.”
Then Honora kissed Penelope, and left the room.