“Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. 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 seems like such a nice boy. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. “So you’re the one my son has been talking about. He moved her dress from her shoulders and off her torso. ‘In fact, I’ve never met anyone who goaded me to so much violence. His father and his four brothers had perished, leaving him to collect all of their spoils and various kingdoms. " "I don't mind the throuble," hesitated Terence, who was really a good-hearted fellow at the bottom; "and I'd like to sarve you if I could, for you look like a gentleman's son, and that goes a great way wi' me.
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