"Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. And yet, the doctor recalled an expression of the girl's: that it was not a dissipated face, only troubled. "We'll see that, you yelping hounds!" rejoined Jonathan, glaring fiercely at them. It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock.
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