But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society. Little by little, she stopped hating him. If only this child were his: what good times they would have together! The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart. I cannot do it, David. 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. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room.
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