“In a sense—yes. She tugged at my coat and said, ‘I know of the blue-eyed maid. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. If there’s any one here whom you have not met I will make you acquainted with them after dinner. I tried to get across the terrace and onto the bridge to introduce myself, but the crowds did not part and I lost you. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made.
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