"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. As she came in this morning she saw that the lamp was still burning in the study; so she stopped at the door. There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light. We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends.
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