" "Suffer me to proceed," replied the stranger. 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. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. A quarter of an hour passed. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery.
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