Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. "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. " "Excepting your father. Remember?’ ‘Parbleu,’ came from his still struggling victim. Certain of my prey, I can afford to wait for it. He disappeared into its thick doors like a magician’s rabbit. We WERE thieves.
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