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. ‘Lucky I have you to keep me from Bedlam, then. ‘It had better not be, by God,’ had barked Captain Hilary Roding. The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower. So long as she stood beside him, he was safe.
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