I don’t see any good in life if it hasn’t got you in it. ” “Well,” she said, “has there not been some reason for this? The likeness to Annabel could scarcely have escaped remark. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. "When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm. Your life is like a funeral March. "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. “Nor am I going to,” she answered, smiling.
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