"It is thought that in the worst case a pardon may be obtained," said Esther, avoiding Harold Transome's name.
"I don't rely on that," said Felix, shaking his head. "My wisest course is to make up my mind to the very ugliest penalty they can condemn me to. If I can face that, anything less will seem easy. But you know," he went on, smiling at her brightly, "I never went in for fine company and cushions. I can't be very heavily disappointed in that way."
"Do you see things just as you used to do ?" said Esther, turning pale as she said it—"I mean—about poverty, and the people you will live among. Has all the misunderstanding and sadness left you just as obstinate?" She tried to smile, but could not succeed.
"What—about the sort of life I should lead if I were free again?" said Felix.
"Yes. I can't help being discouraged for you by all these things that have happened. See how you may fail!" Esther spoke timidly. She saw a peculiar smile, which she knew well, gathering in his eyes. "Ah, I daresay I am silly," she said, deprecatingly.
"No, you are dreadfully inspired," said Felix.
