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. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. There are some islands upon which he is not permitted to land any more. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified.
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