Her knees were trembling, her whole frame was shaken with sobs. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. No umbrella either, the sky was delightfully overcast. "I am Owen Wood, at your service. To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on his betrothed. .
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