“Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. "Sit down, fool!" "Jack," said Kneebone, who had been considerably interested by the foregoing scene, "are these regrets for your past life sincere?" "Suppose them so," rejoined Jack, "what then?" "Nothing—nothing," stammered Kneebone, his prudence getting the better of his sympathy.
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