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. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. Kneebone cordially on the shoulder, and began to laugh as heartily as any of them. “Get me some brandy and my bag. "From Lady Trafford's, where I took the box. But I don’t think she lays hold of one so.
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