“Not a bit of it. "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. He stirred continually, thrusting his legs about and flinging his arms above his head. ‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe. The evil in his eyes towards her was explosive. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. I know how bad it feels.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTM3LjE3OC4xNzUgLSAwMi0wNi0yMDI0IDA0OjIxOjQ3IC0gMTg3NTI3Nzg5NQ==
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