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. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts. She had slept badly at first in a long chair next to the fire waiting for him to return, but caught on after that. Both of them. He saw her eyes pass him and settle on a fleetingly pretty strawberry blond girl and her effeminate father. “Very likely,” he answered.
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