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 us go elsewhere and discuss the matter. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed.
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