Expiation. She took a deep breath. 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. “Do not look so uncomfortable, both of you,” she begged. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. But no more of that. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table.
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