" "Do you suppose he knew?" "He? Oh, you mean Mr. Stay! I'll go myself. " "What?" "We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of them to him. 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. Anna saw it, and for the first time found herself trembling. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest.
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