She has no proof—yet. "What for?" demanded Wood. “Rhea will return soon. With this air in our blood, this sunlight soaking us. 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. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles.
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