Rhea commanded her. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. “I wouldn’t. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. Tell Bess to slip out, and I'll put on her cloak and hood.
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