"But clear the room of this rabble, if you have sufficient authority over them. . Wood hadn't struck me. 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. His tone was rough, almost threatening. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. “I do,” he answered. What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it. There was no way to warn her of his presence without startling her.
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