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. “Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley. Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment's repose. I'm ashamed to say that I was too much terrified to scream out—but ran and hid myself. .
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