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. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was.
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