"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. You are not my husband. "I had no thought of injuring your wife, and would have died rather than commit so foul a crime. I am grateful, indeed I am. But I will not believe you. I will tell you this much, because you have been kind. . It was perfectly legitimate. Italians. Little more’n a week.
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