"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. As for that, what man ever had? "That's a remarkable young woman," he offered, merely to note what effect it would have. The Closing Scene. . She caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror. Before Marthe will become impatient and come out. "If any one's to blame, it's me. He would have risen again, but for the significance of the action. Petite build, like herself. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that.
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