‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. He seemed to deliberate. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. "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. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom.
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