"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. But oh, how weary I am! I know. ’ ‘That was not what I had in mind. I want him immediately, so you can send Frith with my phaeton if you like. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. ’ ‘Ah, so that’s where Valade comes in,’ nodded Lucy.
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