’ She pronounced the name with painstaking accuracy, Gerald noticed. Her aunt glanced up startled, and then sat very still, with hands that had ceased to work. "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. Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean.
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