Lost from all protection, all her family dead—as are mine. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. “How dare you? You are trying to kidnap my babies!” Clotilde demanded. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. ’ ‘What?’ squeaked Kimble. Sc. “Thank you,” she said coolly. ’ He turned to the goggling footman and thrust him towards the coach. She attacked his hair resolutely.
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