The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. The person caught hold of his arm, and, in spite of his efforts to disengage himself, detained him. "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. "You mustn't talk any more; the excitement isn't good for you.
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