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. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. ‘Perhaps I could indeed rescue you if only you would confide in me. Hoddy. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. That’s the fact about them. ’ ‘You’re incorrigible,’ scolded Hilary, beginning to follow.
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