She held out the foil. 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 would have married her long ago, but she will not have me. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. She had to exert tremendous energy not to sniff the air for his blood. ’ She shrugged. “I lied, as I would have committed a murder, or done any evil deed sooner than lose you.
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