The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. "Raise your vice, and lave off coughin'," added Terence. 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.
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