"Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. ‘Because he knows you for an imposter,’ Melusine flashed. She shuddered; the room was unfamiliar and unwelcoming. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. I am sure he would go with you.
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