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 time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. I will never wed you. ' So I go to Patagonia. But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally. “Only married a few months ago and lived out at Hampstead. Oh, it is unbearable. ‘They weren’t no soldiers.
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