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Updated: June 2, 2025
Now when she woke to the full sense of her wonderful sixteen years Bébée, standing barefoot on the mud floor, was as pretty a sight as was to be seen betwixt Scheldt and Rhine. The sun had only left a soft warmth like an apricot's on her white skin. Her limbs, though strong as a mountain pony's, were slender and well shaped.
Apricot's voice had fallen into its characteristic sing-song, and his eyes were vacant "rose before daylight, dressed by lamplight, fed the hogs by lantern-light, fetched the cows by twilight " I thought it best to stop him. "But you did eventually get off the farm, did you not?" I asked.
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