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. "I am very happy to be of service to you. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. She said as much to him. ‘Give me an opportunity to open my mouth, and I will.
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