"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. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. And with his daughter?’ ‘He wrote to Jarvis from an inn in France, saying that he had married Mademoiselle Valade, and that his baby naturally belonged with her father.
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