" "Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?" "Company, child," repeated Kneebone. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. "What?—help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss Enschede!" was the protest. "You were watched to-night by Blueskin. He was always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way.
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