" "So I find, Captain," rejoined Quilt, submissively; "but you're too noble-hearted to take advantage of my situation. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. Shot him, do you hear?” “Good God!” he exclaimed, looking at her curiously. "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. ‘I can’t do that.
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