His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. "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. "I mean to have no one but yourself in it. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom. I feel almost inclined to regret the fact.
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