"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. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. “I am very glad that you have come here. "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully. "Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly.
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