Their faces were scrubbed to a shining cleanliness, their hair was plastered down with water. None of their clothes quite fitted them - you could see the faint outline of its former owner behind each clean but well-worn and patched garment, Penny thought, and she suddenly found them almost unbearably pathetic. At the moment, however, her sympathy was misplaced, for they were all beaming so broadly that they looked as if their cheeks would burst.
From CROOKED SIXPENCE, Chapter 1, Tudor Boy.
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