You see I am rather obstinate. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair.
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