"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. But he was not a father one could make much of. There’s a great gulf opened, and nobody’s got any plans what to do with us. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble.
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