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. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. Scarcely had it come to a halt, when a stalwart man shouldered his way, in spite of their opposition, through the lines of soldiery to the cart, and offered his large horny hand to the prisoner. Let's have a look at the kinchen that ought to have been throttled," added he, snatching the child from Wood. Never did I need a rescue so much.
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