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. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. ‘You wish a life of obedience? So be it, Mademoiselle Charvill.
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