"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. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. “I can get very angry. "Now your curiosity's satisfied, child," continued Kneebone, "perhaps, you'll attend to my orders. “You have killed me. Wood's charms equalled your description.
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