On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. Enter the house with your men. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. She agreed entirely with her brother.
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