"And, when that's done, what then?
"Then, Mr. Franklin, I shall have two reasons for making another attempt
to say the words to you which I have not said yet. If you leave the
house, as Penelope believes you will leave it, and if I haven't spoken
to you before that, I shall lose my opportunity forever. That is one
reason. Then, again, there is the comforting knowledge--if my speaking
does make you angry--that I have got the nightgown ready to plead my
cause for me as nothing else can. That is my other reason. If these two
together don't harden my heart against the coldness which has hitherto
frozen it up (I mean the coldness of your treatment of me), there will
be the end of my efforts--and the end of my life.
"Yes. If I miss my next opportunity--if you are as cruel as ever, and if
I feel it again as I have felt it already--good-bye to the world which
has grudged me the happiness that it gives to others. Good-bye to life,
which nothing but a little kindness from you can ever make pleasurable
to me again. Don't blame yourself, sir, if it ends in this way. But
try--do try--to feel some forgiving sorrow for me! I shall take care
that you find out what I have done for you, when I am past telling you
of it myself.
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