’ Joy rose in Melusine’s bosom. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse. We have met before.
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