In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. ” She gazed at him. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. Probably he will come around to-morrow and begin all over again.
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