" "Keep it," said Trenchard, haughtily. . Attempt to molest me, and I split. 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. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. Every eye was fixed upon the prisoner.
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