” “It is my wish to be alone,” she said wearily. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued. "I never told anybody," she went on. Clotilde’s stunning green eyes were reflected in the gazes of the tender young children, but their faces had been hollow and sunken, their hair matted, and their clothing in bad need of repair. God, how old are they now? They must be teenagers. Wood started to his feet. By chance I went to one who had known you in Paris.
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