" "Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?" "Company, child," repeated Kneebone. Ennison’s signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother.
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