“I am getting plain,” she said, with a little shudder. He was scarcely concealed when he heard the horsemen, who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride back. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. 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.
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