In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. ” “Alive,” Annabel moaned, her eyes large with terror. What was the alternative to going home? No alternative appeared in that darkness. I wouldn't have him see me in this state for the world. ” She laughed. ‘You are not sympathique in the very least. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. He looked about for his hat, and put it on. ‘Keep your distance! You dare to tell me I cannot refuse?’ He glared at the girl.
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