How men suffer for the foolish things they do!" "Ay to that. "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. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. When she awoke, the sun was high in Heaven. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald.
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