THE GOLDEN BOWL
"And what," her husband liked to ask, "will be mine?"
"Nothing—you're not worthy of any. One's punishment is in what one feels, and what will make ours effective is that we shall feel." She was splendid with her "ours"; she flared up with this prophecy. "It will be Maggie herself who will mete it out."
"Maggie—?"
"She'll know—about her father; everything. Everything," she repeated. On the vision of which each time Mrs. Assingham, as with the presentiment of an odd despair, turned away from it. "But she'll never tell us."
