Penelope.
[With a little smile, as if she were talking to a child.] Don’t. Don’t cry.
Mrs. Fergusson.
I look such a perfect fool.
Penelope.
It’s so tiresome of our little sins to look foolish when they’re found out, instead of wicked.
Mrs. Fergusson.
I shall never respect myself again.
Penelope.
Dry your tears, dear. Uncle Davenport has just come, and he wants to know if it’s respectable to ask you to lunch with him alone.