Her tone was icy. "No, no, Sir," replied Ireton. "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. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine.
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