“I wonder why people in love are so defiant, so careless of other considerations?” “The very hares grow brave. 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. She was retuning, fifths spilling from the sliver of light underneath the door like milk. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. “Of course he may merely have been telling her who we were, but I think it improbable. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. “I can survive on my own.
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