All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. 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. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. ” The strain in her face was visible as she tried to remember. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said.
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