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. She had just managed to reach it, grabbing for the handle, when the enemy’s cracked command halted her. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. "Oh lord! I hope not. Vorsack sat alone at his computer in his pajamas.
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