” “No,” cried Miss Miniver, almost vehemently. “Do all foster kids have the instinct?” Michelle asked naively. 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. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. Guns were impossible. ‘I broke in. His face was very serious.
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