“How dare you? You are trying to kidnap my babies!” Clotilde demanded. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. All three, then, burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. ’ ‘Only in hot blood, eh?’ grinned Gerald. They must see the prisoner at the hatch. “You too sing?” he asked. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness.
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