"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 seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand. And yet he knew clearly and definitely what he purposed to do, what the future would be.
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