There was no need of sowing suspicion when he wasn't really certain there were grounds for it. "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 love—Anna?” she exclaimed. “You are coming my way,” Courtlaw answered. She was radiant.
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