The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. " Broken pipes littered the floor, if that can be said to be littered, which, in the first instance, was a mass of squalor and filth.
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