Pretty good stuff, some of it. " Something reached down into his heart and twisted it. Sadly, the Christmas break came to an end. 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. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m not at all sympathique. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too.
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