"Brother," cried Lady Trafford, her eye blazing with unnatural light, and her cheek suffused with a crimson stain: "Brother," she cried, lifting her thin fingers towards Heaven, "as God shall judge me, I was wedded to that murdered man!" "A lie!" ejaculated Sir Rowland, furiously; "a black, and damning lie!" "It is the truth," replied his sister, falling backwards upon the couch. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. " "Oh, Heaven!" exclaimed Jack. She would ignore him. We shall be equally matched. Gerald’s chest tightened. “She must look forward to Italy. ” She said mournfully. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor.
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