I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. He came to her at once, and turning, walked by her side. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. 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.
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