"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. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. "I wonder how she picked up Kanaka? On her island they don't talk Kanaka lingo.
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