Besides," she added, blushing yet more deeply, "it isn't a proper one to talk upon. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. "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.
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