He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. And you promised to tell me. 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. Lucy replied, \"My hair has a mind of its own. \" Lucy said. Well, I told aunt.
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