His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was resolute and stern. She caught her finger in the lock and had to ask him to help pry it out. You're a queer lad. He walked unsteadily towards the door. "An American. ‘What, and miss getting myself murdered?’ ‘She said she wouldn’t murder you. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. Filled as he was with conflicting emotions, any stretch of silence would be dangerous.
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