"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. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. She was the social leader of Morningside Park, and in her superficial and euphuistic way an extremely kind and pleasant woman. ’ ‘I could have done so at the first and saved you the pain,’ she told him merrily. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes.
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