"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. Her head snapped back as he grabbed her by the hair. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. Wood became sensible that he was not alone. It’s a beautiful plant, but a tender one. When he returned, a moment or so afterwards, he found Sir Rowland standing by the lifeless body of his sister. ” He said. In his condition the boy apparently had been as safe as in the lock-up.
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