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. It was as if he could smell it on her. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. He died when I was. Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel.
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