Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. "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. Jarvis did not leave a will. "By all means," rejoined Quilt.
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