"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. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing. F. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. It was locked.
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