The lonely widows of robber barons found him irresistible and he was the guest of many a fine table. "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. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety.
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