“No. “How dare you? You are trying to kidnap my babies!” Clotilde demanded. . Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill.
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