"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. Vorsack looked pale and pink. “I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said. Gerald took Madame’s hand and kissed the fingers with a little more warmth than punctilio demanded.
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