"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. . Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. Kneebone assured her that he did say so; and, as a further proof of his sincerity, squeezed her hand very warmly under the table. People running, screaming, hiding.
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