Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. I do not want to hear from you even the threat of disobedience. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. The odd creak was not to be avoided in an old house such as this. He, next cautiously tried the door, but found it fastened inside. "I am here, you see," said the smith. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad.
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