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Clotilde, the Queen
were the long golden curls, the blue eyes, the pale pink cheeks, the red lips,—even the dimple in the round chin. Nichette stared first at the little girl, then at the doll, then back again. It was Mignon come alive!
“Oh—oh! You must be the Queen!” gasped Nichette at last, “you are so like the lonesomest doll.”
“The ‘lonesomest doll’? Why do you call her that? And how do you come here?” asked the31
