“Oh. She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. "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. She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity.
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