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. The first Step towards the Ladder. He stabbed a kitchen knife between her ribs. It felt too good. Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. He passed, and came loitering back and stood beside her, silently looking into her face. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me. Come down, I say, instantly, or I'll make you. Then you will begin to see. Then, in a few years, he and Ruth might fare forth in comfort and security. A pretty piece. You'll live to hate chicken; and the man in you will rise up and demand strong drink. She kept her eyes closed.
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