“My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each other lately. "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. Good night. “Girls of sixteen do not need their own laundry hampers.
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