” He paused for a time. ” She said, studying his face, which seemed to lose its childishness a little more with each day. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. 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. Of course, it really signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was travelling alone. " "Somebody coming?" "Yes.
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